


All Apologies

by orphan_account



Category: Big Time Rush
Genre: Cargan, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-16
Updated: 2013-09-05
Packaged: 2017-12-05 11:56:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 19
Words: 42,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/723031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Logan is hoping to escape his abusive father poverty-stricken life. Carlos is the king of the jocks, hoping to "save" Logan from his dark life. I don't care if its a common storyline, I LIKE it. Re-hashing of Weep You No More. WARNING: M/M, abuse, violence, sex, whatever. (Save the story, the title will probably change.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTE: WHILE THIS MAY INVOLVE THE CHARACTERS AND LIKENESSES OF BIG TIME RUSH, IT TAKES PLACE IN AN ALTERNATE REALITY. I CONTROL THEIR LIVES (God, that's fun to say...). AND IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT THEN WRITE YOUR OWN STORY. I SHALL DO AS I PLEASE WITH WHOMEVER I LIKE AND YOU SHAN'T TELL ME OTHERWISE (so nyah nyah). ALSO, I DO NOT OWN NOR AM I A PART OF THE BIG TIME RUSH FRANCHISE, NOR AM I IN ANYWAY DIRECTLY AFFILIATED WITH THEM (So don't sue me, 'cuz I don't have anything).

Monday, September 25th

* * *

"Dad, please don't -"

Logan Mitchell ducked as his father chucked another beer bottle at him. It shattered against the wall behind him, and Logan felt a couple pieces fly into his back. His father had woken up drunk from last night, and was in a rage because Logan hadn't prepared breakfast for him, despite the fact that there was nothing edible in the house.

"Quit hidin' when I'm tryin' to discipline you!" He half-slurred, half-screamed at his cringing son. He suddenly lunged at Logan and grabbed him by the hair, dragging him to the kitchen. He threw Logan against their dinky, nearly burned out refrigerator, and Logan collapsed on the dirty floor. "When I get up in the mornin' I expect a hot breakfast to be waitin' for me!"

"But dad, there's nothing to eat!" Logan pleaded.

"WELL, WHO DA HELL'S FAULT IS THAT, YA FUCKIN' BRAT?"

"Dad, please, there's no money-"

"AND I S'POSE YOU THINK THAT'S MY FAULT, RIGHT?"

"No dad, I'm sorry, please stop -" Logan was cut off as his father struck a flurry of blows to Logan's face and body. "And let that be a lesson to you, ya son of a bitch!" Logan's father stomped back to his room and slammed the door shut.

Logan picked himself up off the floor. He quietly limped to the bathroom and silently shut the door, not wanting to further anger his father. He gazed at his reflection in the mirror. Were it not for the bruises and contusions, and the fact that rarely eating had made him too thin, he would almost be decent-looking. Boy, would that be the life.

From under a loose floorboard, he pulled out a little container of cover-up that a girl had given him a couple of weeks ago. He had shown up to school with bruises from his father, and had apparently failed at hiding it. A girl stopped him in the hall. She opened her bag, pulled out the cover-up, and took him into the bathroom and showed him how to apply it. When he started to tear up, she said to keep it, and that everything would be ok.

Once his marks had been sufficiently hidden, he took of his shirt and examined his back. None of the glass from the beer bottle was lodged in him, and they were barely scratches. They had even stopped bleeding already. The spot where he had hit the handle on the refrigerator was turning an ugly shade of green, but there wasn't a whole ton he could do about that, other than not lean back in his chair all day.

He stopped examining his back and looked himself in the face again. This wasn't normal for a teenager. He knew that. He thought back to when, years ago, his dad had been a loving father. They didn't have much, but they had each other. He missed that side of his dad. He shuddered as he remember some of his father's worse rages.

There was one time when he had thrown Logan against a wall, and Logan's hand went through a window. Once his dad had passed out, he took himself to the emergency room, arm wrapped up in a blood-stained towel. He refused to tell them his name, and every time they asked him what happened, he stuck with a simple story: he tripped, and accidentally broke a window as he tried to catch himself. The nurses and doctors seemed suspicious, but they took it as the truth.

When he explained that his family was poor and couldn't afford the medical bill, one of the hospital administrators took mercy on him, and said that he wouldn't be billed for this, seeing as he wouldn't give them his name, and they didn't want to involve the police. She advised him to be more careful next time, and even sent him home with an emergency medical kit, which he hid underneath a loose floorboard in the bathroom, so as to not let his dad get ahold of it. Thankfully, none of his injuries merited its use.

He put his threadbare shirt back on, and it hung off of him like it was several sizes too big. He snuck into his room down the hall, where he pulled on a thin sweater to try and mask his lean frame. He pulled a ratty belt through the belt loops on his old, faded jeans, using one of the notches he had to make himself to clasp it shut. He lugged his heavy backpack over his shoulder, and crept out of the house, even though he could hear his father snoring behind the closed bedroom door.

* * *

Logan sighed as he left his math class. He enjoyed math. Math was emotionless, bland. He could let himself sink into math, and feel all of his troubles and feelings leave him for a short while. Suddenly, Logan, being absorbed in his math world still, slammed into someone solid. Very solid. Like, brick wall solid. He hit the ground, and his books and papers scattered everywhere.

"Oh my God, dude, are you ok? I didn't even see you there! Here, let me help you."

Logan quickly recovered and looked to see who the voice belonged to. His heart fluttered when he saw who it was. It was Carlos Garcia, the captain of the school hockey team. He was easily the hottest guy in school, with his beautiful mocha skin, and his dazzlingly white smile, and most importantly, an attitude so genuinely sweet that it could give you diabetes. Logan quickly scrambled to grab his far-flung belongings and get his undeserving self away from this kind angel.

As soon as all of his things had been gathered, Carlos helped Logan up and handed his things back to him. He started saying "Hey, sorry about that, I was kind of distracted becau- Hey, is...that cover-up? Why are you wear-"

Logan's eyes widened and he started to panic. He could feel what must have been thousands of eyes on him. He spluttered out a few syllables, and quickly fled, running haphazardly down the hall at a breakneck speed. His cheeks were flushed with shame, and his eyes filled with tears at the embarrassment of nearly being discovered. He couldn't let anyone, least of all Carlos know about his home life. If that happened, his father would be reported, and he would be taken away and placed in the foster system, and that would be far worse than enduring his father. He just knew it would be.

* * *

Carlos parked his car in his driveway, still puzzled by Logan's reaction to him earlier that day. Why had he just run from him like that? All he did was ask a simple question. Was the point of the make-up anyway? He hadn't even put it all over his face, only certain places. Was he trying to cover something up? It wasn't acne; Logan had pretty clear skin. Maybe it was bruises. Yeah, that made sense. Bruises. He probably hurt himself and didn't want to look all black and blue, so he put some cover-up on. Satisfied, he got out of his car and headed towards the front door.

An idea struck him as he grabbed the door knob. What if Logan hadn't hurt himself? What if it had been someone else? He immediately discounted anyone at school. He knew that some of the other jocks liked to prank people, but he knew they wouldn't go THAT far. Who else could've done it? The only logical conclusion was Logan's dad. His father being a police officer, he knew that there were frequent noise complaints due to his father's drunkeness, but he never thought it would've escalated to abuse.

Suddenly, he felt the door knob turn in his hand. The front door opened to reveal Mr. Garcia. Carlos was exactly like his father: short, but built like a tank. They were both a holy terror in sports, Mr. Garcia having played football in high school, and Carlos being the star of the hockey team.

"Carlos, are you ok? You've been standing out there for 5 minutes! I thought you might've forgotten how to turn the doorknob," Mr. Garcia started joking. But he stopped when he saw the look of bafflement on his son's face. "Here, come inside, it's starting to get cold out. What are you thinking about?"

Carlos stood in the middle of their living room. Should he tell his father of his suspicions? What would that do for Logan? He decided to play it safe. "Dad, what do you know about abuse?"

Mr. Garcia sighed, having a sinking feeling about where this conversation was going. "Who is this about, son?"

"N-No one, why would you-"

"Carlos..."

Carlos sighed, wondering how his father always knew about where the root of the problem was. "It's about...the Mitchells. Logan and his dad. Earlier today, I bumped into Logan and accidentally knocked him down. When I helped him back up, I noticed that he had bruises on his face. But when I tried to ask him about it, he took off. Why would he do that?"

Mr. Garcia sighed. He had always hoped that he wouldn't have to answer questions like this. "Sit down, Carlos. This conversation could take a while." He braced himself, preparing mentally for the words that were about to come out. "Logan ran away because he doesn't want people to know. He probably thinks that if people know, then someone is bound to report his father, and Logan will be taken away and placed into the foster system, which he feels is worse than the abuse. That's generally why kids who are abused don't report it."

"But if you know about the abuse, then why can't you stop it?" Carlos asked, surprised.

Mr. Garcia sighed again, and said "I can't stop it because Logan won't let us. Anytime we get called over, he denies any abuse and makes up excuses for his bruises and cuts. He's very intelligent, that Logan. Somehow, whenever we get over there, no matter how fast we are, his father's quieted down and usually in bed, the place looks at least semi-presentable, and Logan has several excuses ready. I just wish that he were smart enough to see that foster care is better than abuse. Especially the amount of abuse he takes."

Carlos swallowed, not realizing how serious the situation really was. "But- but why would Mr. Mitchell do that? Why would he abuse his own son?"

"Well, it might seem like a fairy tale, but once the Mitchells were as happy as any other family. Jonathan Mitchell was an excellent chef, and his wife Joanne was a greatly sought-after interior designer. They really were the toast of the town, and people only started talking about them more when they became pregnant with Logan. But right around that time, a new restaurant opened, and the owner was a spiteful little prick. After 3 months, Mr. Mitchell's restaurant had been driven out of business, along with a couple of others. Normally, it would've been easy for Mr. Mitchell to get another job. But, with the other restaurants closing down, there was an influx of jobless chefs. And after being jobless for about 3 months, he began to get listless. And argumentative.

"After that, it seemed that nothing would be the same. He started losing friends, and they were incessantly fighting. So much so, that when she would get invited to parties, the hosts would politely ask that Mr. Mitchell stay at home. I would receive complaint after complaint from the neighbors, and their life just became a downward spiral. Eventually Logan was born, and everyone hoped that it would be a new source of hope and happiness for the Mitchells. But it wasn't. 5 months later, Joanne divorced him and moved out of the state, leaving Jonathan 10 grand for their care. He eventually got a job as a fry cook, and made their money stretch, and everyone was content.

"But ten years later, he started missing her. And he turned to drinking. Pretty soon, funds were running low, and Logan and his dad had to move to smaller house in a poorer neighborhood. A couple years later was when we suspected he started abusing Logan. Poor kid, he was only 13. Least year, Mr. Mitchell got fired, and they've been living on unemployment money ever since. And we suspect that Logan is starving, because he's just getting thinner and thinner. But, there's nothing we can do unless he comes forward."

Carlos was near tears. He hadn't had no idea what was going on. 'Poor Logan,' he thought.

Mr. Garcia stood up, and said "Listen, anything you can do to help Logan, do it. Invite him over, take him out to lunch, it doesn't matter. Earn his trust. Just don't mention what we talked about tonight, and don't try to save him from his father, because it'll just send him running back to him. But anything you can do, do it. I'll support you, whether it's with money, or a place to sleep, or food, or anything. Just help the poor kid out Carlos. I know it sounds bad, but I can't do anything, and I can't stand the thought of Logan not having anyone to look out for him." He sighed sadly, then turned and walked into the kitchen to prepare dinner. And as he did, Carlos started planning in his mind.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

* * *

Tuesday, September 26th

Carlos spent all of math class the next day watching Logan. He was fascinating. He seemed like he wasn't paying any attention at all, but anytime there was a question that no one else could answer, he would sigh, raise his hand, and answer it like it was the easiest problem he'd ever seen. How had Logan escaped his notice before?

He vaguely remembered trying to proofread an essay of Logan's a year or so ago, only to be confused by the kid's huge vocabulary. He also had a sneaking suspicion that the boy in his freshman history class that he had referred to as "that know-it-all guy" had also been Logan. He must really fly under the radar.

"Mr. Garcia?" Shit. Ms. Alexander had called on him, and he had no idea what she was even teaching about. "Uh, you know, Ms. Alexander, I haven't, uh, gotten there yet in the, uh, problem." Ms. Alexander sighed, obviously not surprised. "Frankly Mr. Garcia, I'm surprised that you got to the classroom. At least pretend like you're paying attention? For my sake?" Some of the kids around him snickered as he blushed. He mumbled an apology as Ms. Alexander rolled her eyes and called on someone else.

He looked back at Logan, who had been sneaking furtive glances back at Carlos. As their gazes met, Logan's eyes widened, and he whipped his head back around and bent over his paper, as if trying to hide behind himself.

Carlos hadn't noticed it before, but Logan was kind of...cute. If it weren't for the fact that he was like, unhealthily skinny and sort of banged up, he would be really cute. He had that adorable "freaked out bunny" mentality, and these gorgeous, twinkling eyes that were just filled with unsaid emotion. His stiff hair, the color of a delicious dark chocolate, was half sticking up in an endearing bed head. His pursed lips hid a beautiful smile that he wore whenever a teacher held up his work as an example to the rest of the class. To his credit, that occurred more frequently than not.

The bell rang, and Logan quickly shoved his materials in his shabby backpack, and sped out the door before Carlos could even unzip his own backpack. But seeing Logan shove his loose leaf papers into that worn-out backpack gave him an idea...

* * *

Wednesday, September 27th

Logan sighed morosely as shut his locker. He was almost out of paper, and he didn't have any money to buy any more. Maybe a copy room clerk would have mercy on him and slip him some printer paper for the time being. He wasn't afraid to ask for charity. To be proud was to be foolish. Besides, what did he have to be proud about? He wandered down the hall to his first class of the day, math. As he walked, he realized that he was glad for his relative anonymity among the student body. He'd rather not be noticed anyway.

He pulled open the door to his math class, but stopped when he saw his desk. There was bunch of...well, stuff there, for lack of a better word. He approached his desk curiously, looking at his oblivious classmates, fiddling with devices or chatting with each other. As he arrived, he noticed a piece of paper that simply had "For Logan" typed on it. On the desk were a couple of one inch binders, a couple of spiral-bound, three section notebooks, a box with pens of several colors in them, and a box of mechanical pencils. Hanging over the seat was a brand new charcoal black backpack. He ran a trembling finger down the spine of one of the notebooks, not wanting to believe that it was actually his, in case there was some sort of mistake.

He looked over at Ms. Alexander, and mouthed “You?”, while pointing at the new materials. She shrugged and mouthed back “Nope,” giving him a sly smile. He sat in his chair, and slowly slid in both the binders, one of the spiral notebooks, and the box of multicolored pens. He opened the box of pencils, sliding one out. He clicked the end a couple of times, and smiled as the lead came out. He opened up the notebook and wrote in the top left-hand corner ‘Logan Mitchell’. He looked around to make sure no one was watching, and quickly leaned forward and smelled the paper. It smelled…new. The scent was indescribable, yet intoxicating and addictive. He ran his hand across the paper, unable to believe that it was really there and it was really his.

* * *

Logan sighed internally as he reached his front door. He opened their dented mailbox and found this month’s unemployment check and notification of the arrival of this month’s food stamps. Thank goodness. That meant his dad was still asleep from last night, and he could sneak his new supplies in without his dad getting suspicious. If his dad saw his new things, then he’d start screaming about how Logan must have been “spreadin’ lies about him” and that “we don’t take other people’s crap here”. It was an ugly fight that usually ended in fresh new bruises for Logan and always ended in a pile of newly trashed goods in the garbage.

He quickly went inside, left the unemployment check on the kitchen counter (that was his father’s beer money), stashed his new school supplies in his room (a different loose floor board from the make-up. It was a pretty crappy house), and left with the food stamps notification. The way their food stamps worked was that Logan would head over to the nearest welfare office. It was conveniently located near a grocery store, which was about 15 minutes away on the bus. They would hand him a debit card with $200 dollars on it, which could be used to buy specific types of food. Thankfully, it couldn’t be used on alcohol, which is why his father left it alone.

He boarded the bus just outside of his neighborhood, handing the driver the dollar for the fare. As he sat on a seat near the front, he thought back to the school supplies. Who could have left them? His first thought was Ms. Alexander. A lot of the teachers knew at least that his home life wasn't great, considering that no one had ever shown up for his back to school night, and they figured that his family probably didn't have a lot of money, based on his relatively small, worn-down wardrobe and the general shabbiness of his belongings. But he didn't think that anyone would go this far, and Ms. Alexander seemed genuinely mystified about the materials sudden appearance when he asked her about it after class.

He also ruled out any of his classmates. It wasn't that none of them were capable of the gesture; it was that they were too oblivious and wrapped up in their own lives to make it. It would be nice if it was Carlos, though. It would be like Carlos was his own personal guardian angel. Logan sighed as he remembered the deal he made with himself. No relationships. He couldn't afford them. Didn't have the time, didn't have the money, he basically just didn't have the right life. He had waged this fearsome battle in his head many times, and it always came out the same way.

A little voice would say _"Hey, you could do it. You've got the brains to figure it out."_

Logan would say "Where would I find the time? I'm always studying."

_"Well, that's the point of a relationship. You learn to make compromises and share."_

"Okay, but what about money? I can't share what I don't have."

_"Well, I suppose you'd have to get a job."_

"That brings us back to the issue of time."

_"You know, you've got a lot more time than you think. You don't have to study for 4 hours EVERY night. You already know all of the material."_

"Fine, I can concede that. But, what would I do about Dad, and home, and the bruises and cuts? How do I explain all that? How do I get away from all that?"

And then the little voice would fall silent. It was a depressing argument to win. He was lonely. So lonely that it felt like it was slowly killing him.

* * *

Logan arrived home with a few bags worth of food in his arms. It was almost six, and he knew that his dad would be up soon, hungry and hungover. It would be best to just make him some food and stay out of his way. He opened the door as quietly as he could and poked his head in through the doorway. Thankfully, the house was silent, with the exception of the buzzing of the refrigerator and the creak of the floorboards under his feet. He took off his shoes and tiptoed into the kitchen in his socks, steering clear of anything that could make noise and wake up his father. He had made that mistake before, and the result wasn’t pretty.

He silently and as quickly as possible put all of the food away in the fridge. With the exception of a few condiments and some soon-to-be-bad apples, the fridge was bare. Now, it was stocked with bread, lunch meat, sliced cheese, containers of yogurt, apples (new ones, Logan figured that it'd be safest to toss the old ones), eggs, lettuce, carrots, and some lunchables for when his dad was too drunk or hungover to actually make food. He stacked the freezer high with frozen dinners: pasta, pizza, burgers, sandwiches, and waffles. He put in the bacon he had bought earlier too. Bacon was his father’s soft spot. Only one bag was left: Logan’s personal stock. When his father was in a bad mood, it was often too dangerous for Logan to leave the relative safety of his room. He had taken to storing certain non-perishable items in his room. He had some protein bars, crackers, and nuts, and had bought a couple of water bottles for good measure. Last week, he had gotten so thirsty during one of his father’s rages that he had to climb out his window to drink from the spigot in the backyard.

He grabbed a frozen dinner from the freezer and microwaved it, while simultaneously turning on the oven. Any more, the oven didn’t have the kind of power to defrost and cook food, but it could keep preheated food warm. He would quickly microwave his father’s meal, and then set it in the oven to keep it warm until his father emerged to eat it. By then, Logan was safely in his room. Generally, he didn’t really interact with his father for a few days at a time, until their paths happened to cross. If he was drunk and there was food, then he might grunt at Logan. Otherwise, there was usually some sort of temper tantrum involved.

He also generally avoided eating the frozen meals and lunchables; his father liked to avoid making food if at all possible. Logan generally made and ate sandwiches when he was home. The sandwich fixings and fruit and vegetables were usually his domain. Everything else was his father’s. Of course, his father had a hard time defining the line between “hunger” and “boredom”. It wasn’t unusual to go through more than three meals a day. If he ran out of his pre-made food, he would fall onto Logan’s food, which also went quickly. That was when the episodes like that of earlier this week happened.

After the first couple of times this happened, Logan had gotten smart. He had gone to the head of the lunch distribution at school and asked if he could work in exchange for school lunches. An agreement had been made where Logan would serve food for the first half hour of lunch, then he could dish up himself and eat during the last fifteen minutes. At first, he thought it would have been humiliating, but then he discovered that most of the student body didn’t care. A good portion didn’t even bother looking up to see who was serving their food. The rest just seemed to shrug it off and moved along.

That was his freshman year. His sophomore year, some of the lunch ladies had begun to notice Logan’s declining weight, due to the fact that he only ate twice (and sometimes even only once) a day. About two or three times a week, a lunch lady who cooked the food would take some of the food, put it in little Styrofoam take-home containers and slip it to Logan. They were all fairly sure that the head lunch lady knew, but she liked Logan enough that she didn’t do anything about it. They also made pretenses of bringing in food for some sort of celebration (“we just got a new dog” or “my son got his braces off”), and insist that Logan take some of the food home because they “couldn’t possibly bring that many leftovers home”.

Logan didn't find this embarrassing either. In fact, he thought it was remarkably sweet. He'd forgotten what nurturing parenting was like, and then he realized that he missed it. He decided that he'd take help wherever he could get it. Maybe his father wouldn't take other people's charity, but Logan sure as hell would.


	3. Chapter 3

Friday, September 29th

* * *

Carlos jumped as one of his best friends, James Diamond, snapped his fingers in the Latino's face. James was the school's resident heartthrob, heartbreaker, and drama king all rolled into one. He was never in a relationship for long (they seemed to be mostly looks and popularity based. The longest one was recorded at one month and three days), and when there was a break-up, not only was it horribly messy, but somehow both came out as a victim. It was intense. Both would mope around school for a week with new suitors following them around with tissues and chocolate until they chose a new mate. It was like watching a high school sitcom mashed up with an Animal Planet special. He was very pretty though. Almost TOO pretty. Up until recently he had had long brown hair, but now he wore a shorter style. He had a nice face, and very tan skin. Carlos suspected it was spray-on, since they hadn't had a day warm enough for tanning since about early August. He typically wore tight tank tops and ripped, faded jeans, as he was a slave to trends.

"Dude, what's the matter with you? You've been staring at that kid all week. You got a crush?" It was lunch, and Carlos had indeed been zoning out while watching Logan. He had been imagining what Logan was really like. He liked to imagine that Logan was sweet and caring and very affectionate. He couldn't help but wonder what it'd be like hold Logan in his arms, run his hands through his hair, kiss his plushy lips...

James snapped his fingers in Carlos' face again. "Hey, you're staring again! You really have got a crush on this guy, don't you?" Carlos blushed. "No, it-it's not like that! I'm just...interested. Do you guys know anything about him?" James withdrew his hand. "Not really. We moved here when we were in 5th grade, remember? He's always just been quiet, super-smart Logan," James admitted. Kendall, Carlos' other best friend, pursed his lips thoughtfully.

Kendall was the student body president. He favored a more dressy style, generally wearing slacks with a polo or button-down shirt, with an ever-present messenger bag over the shoulder. He was a dirty blond with bright green eyes, and was known for being both ambitious and incredibly smart. He had been elected class president by a landslide every year, and had run unopposed for the student body president. It hadn't stopped him from campaigning, though. The student body still occasionally found posters and flyers screaming 'Vote For Kendall!' in various places around the school. Carlos had worked with him on a project before. It had seemed like he never slept, he managed to accomplish so much work. He was taking a full-load of AP classes, and was involved in several clubs (he was somehow on the governing board of ALL of them), including but not limited to the choir, the chess club, the astronomy club, the school's chapter of Autism Speaks, and the rock musicians club. It was all very impressive and very overwhelming in Carlos' mind.

"I know that when my parents were together," Kendall recalled, "they were friends with the Mitchells. But once Mrs. Mitchell left, people kind of stopped talking to Mr. Mitchell. When my dad left after Katie was born, Mr. Mitchell and my mom would hang out every once in a while, and Logan and I would play together. He was kind of quiet then too. He was always more of a follower than a leader. He always went along with whatever I did." James rolled his eyes as he sipped his papaya juice. "Well of course he was a follower, he was friends with you. You always take the lead."

"Oh, hush," Kendall chided. "Anyway, a few years later, when we were about eight or so, Mom and Mr. Mitchell suddenly stopped talking, and Logan stopped coming over. That was when I became friends with you. And then a couple of years later, we got stuck with James."

Kendall snorted at his own joke while James smacked his arm. Carlos looked back at Logan. He had finished up his lunch duties and was now dishing up his own food, smiling and listening to the lunch ladies, who were chatting cheerily with him as he passed. "Has he always been so...quiet and withdrawn, though?" Kendall stopped bickering with James and looked back at Carlos. "Um, no, not really. I mean, he never went out of his way to talk to people, but he wouldn't eat alone or avoid eye contact like he does know. Why? Are you worried about him?" Carlos shook his head, not wanting to worry his friends.

* * *

_Logan looked out over the Mississippi River. Carlos had driven them just out of town to a well-known hook-up spot. He grinned at Logan. "You ready, hot stuff?" Logan growled at him. "Call me that one more time, and I'll make you my bitch."_

_Carlos leaned forward and, locking his hand in Logan's brunette hair, pulled the other boy into a fierce kiss. Logan placed his own hands on Carlos' arms, allowing him to deepen the kiss even further. His eyes were shut fast, allowing him to concentrate on the sensations being caused by Carlos._

_Then Carlos' other hand, which had fastened himself to Logan's collar, began to migrate downward from Logan's shoulder, and Logan involuntarily shuddered as he felt Carlos' hand brush across his nipple. Logan could also hear and feel Carlos shifting around in his seat, but with his eyes closed, he couldn't see what the Latino was doing. Logan was being pushed back, though, as Carlos' demanding mouth pressed his advantage. To Logan, it almost felt like he was having his soul sucked out through his teeth, Carlos' kiss was that powerful. Logan was sitting all the way back in his seat, his head against the headrest. Then Logan felt a sudden weight on his legs, and opened his eyes. Carlos was on his lap, straddling him as best he could. Logan could feel Carlos' warmth pressing up against him, and he could also feel himself completely hard in his pants. Logan never would've guessed that another guy could turn him on this much, but Carlos knew how to press his buttons. Carlos' jet black hair was tousled and he was gasping for breath._

_Carlos broke off the kiss and was now looking down on Logan, his eyes full of hunger. And Logan couldn't help but be consumed by his gaze, just as full of lust. Carlos brought his head back down and resumed their frantic liplock. Both of his hands were on Logan's chest, caressing Logan's skin, but still through the shirt. Logan's own hands were busy running down Carlos' back, feeling the Latino's thick body, his strong muscles formed from all that hockey. Carlos finally started unbuttoning Logan's shirt, though he took his time. Logan actually moaned, wanting Carlos to speed it up._

_Carlos finally finished with the buttons, throwing Logan's shirt open. Logan started reaching for the buttons on Carlos' shirt, but Carlos gently removed his hands as he shook his head, teasingly. "Not yet, Logan," Carlos said, a note of huskiness in his voice. As Carlos began reaching for something on the side of the seat, Logan briefly wondered what he was doing before Logan's seat was suddenly tilting back into a reclining position. Carlos' smile was rather devilish as he looked down at Logan. He slowly began unbuttoning his shirt, going a little faster than he had when he was going after Logan's buttons. Logan watched, open-mouthed, as Carlos tugged his shirt from his belted pants._

_Carlos leaned forward and Logan pulled the smaller boy down the rest of the way until their lips met forcefully, Carlos' tan torso draped across Logan's own pale one. Logan's hands immediately found themselves caressing Carlos' smooth back, while Carlos' own fingers were running up and down Logan's sides. Logan was completely hard by this point, his jeans bulging quite prominently. The friction caused by Carlos' gyrating hips wasn't helping matters, until Carlos shifted and Logan couldn't help but groan- he could feel Carlos' own member grinding against his._

Logan suddenly sat up in bed, gasping for air. Sweat was rolling down his bare chest, and he felt extremely warm. It was a dream. It had all been a dream. But what a dream. He felt like he could actually taste Carlos on his lips still. Sweet, but with a kick; just like Carlos. He groaned as he realized how hard he was still. He pulled his pants halfway down, and wrapped his hand around his throbbing hard-on.

He closed his eyes and imagined Carlos, with nothing on but a jockstrap. The clingy, white material did little to hide his succulent, bulging package. Carlos' hands were running all over his muscular flesh, rubbing on some sort of oil to slick himself up. One moved down to his semi-hard dick, rubbing it through the cotton. The other moved up to his nipple, gently tweaking it and playing with it. He let out a sensual moan, biting his lower lip in an attempt to not cry out with pleasure. The oil had soaked through the jockstrap now, and you could barely see Carlos' huge penis, straining against restricting fabric. He let out another moan, higher this time, a sense of urgency in his voice.

And suddenly, Logan released himself all over his stomach. His chest was heaving as Logan panted for breath. God, Carlos' got him so riled up he could barely stand it. He grabbed a couple of tissues from his rickety bedside table and dried himself off. This Carlos thing was getting out of hand. Sometimes, when Carlos passed him in the hall, it was all Logan could do to avoid brushing up against him or bumping into him, just to touch him, or maybe hear him, or even have him flash that huge smile.

He tossed the tissues in the trash and sighed as he imagined what it would feel like to be locked in Carlos' tight embrace, feeling him breathe and his heart beat through his chest, to be able to run his hands through Carlos' glorious hair...

He turned around, grabbed his pillow, and laid it down parallel to him. He wrapped his arms around it and pulled it close. Cuddling it. He imagined that it was Carlos, and that they were lying in bed together. They had just had a wonderful date, and Logan felt so loved that he never wanted to leave Carlos' side ever again. He pulled it even closer, imagining Carlos' fingers tangled in his auburn hair...

Looked like he wasn't going to stop being lonely anytime soon.


	4. Chapter 4

Monday, October 2nd

* * *

As Logan arrived at school, he had an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach. Like something was going to happen. He wondered what it meant and whether or not it had anything to do with what had transpired the previous week. He hoped not. He couldn't risk Carlos telling his dad about his contusions. That would only mean trouble. Trouble with the authorities, trouble with the school board, and troubles with his life in general. He couldn't risk anything jeopardizing his chances of getting into med school. That was his ticket out of here. He headed off to math class, hoping that Carlos wouldn't try to talk to him.

As Logan got ready to leave, he heard Ms. Alexander call to him. "Logan, can you come here for a second? I have an extra credit proposition for you."

Logan grinned. He loved extra credit opportunities and all his teachers knew it. Most often they would ask him to join some academic team they were coaching before their next big event. He wondered what Ms. Alexander's would be.

As he approached her desk, Ms. Alexander smiled at him. She was his favorite teacher, and arguably, he was her favorite student. The teachers weren't technically supposed to pick favorites, but they couldn't help it in Logan's case. He was so brilliant, that they could always rely on him to wreck their grading curves. Their teachers often placed bets on him, saying to their classes that if Logan got 100% on their next test, which they always promised was the hardest of the year, they would do something outrageous. Mr. Alonzo, his freshman English teacher, ended up teaching for a week in a clown costume that way.

"Logan, I need a big favor."

Logan smiled. "Sure, Ms. Alexander, what do you need?"

Ms. Alexander smiled back. "Logan, do you know Carlos Garcia? He sits in the back of the room, usually listening to his iPod as if I have no idea what he's doing?"

Logan was taking aback, both by Ms. Alexander's keen eyes and the turn this conversation had taken. "Y-Yeah, why..?"

Ms. Alexander sighed. "Unfortunately, he's not doing as well in this class as he needs to be, though I haven't the FOGGIEST idea why," she said, her voice positively dripping with sarcasm. "The hockey team coach came up to me and asked if there was any way that I could set up a tutor for him. Normally I would say that he has to take that step on his own, but the principal is rather insistent on it as well. It would seem that he is the key to our hockey teams success. So, would you be up to doing it? I promise I'll make it worth your while in extra credit and a letter of recommendation for college. What do you say?"

Logan sighed, thinking that he knew this morning something was going to happen with Carlos. He decided to bite the bullet and say "Sure, Ms. Alexander, I'd be happy to."

"Great! I'll let Coach Farrell know! He'll be happy. Would you let Carlos know for me? Thank you so much Logan. Several people really appreciate this."

"S-Sure. No problem Ms. Alexander."

Logan left, wondering what he had gotten himself into.

* * *

Logan shivered as he sat in the stands of the local hockey rink. He had been waiting there for half an hour because he didn't know when the hockey team's practice ended. And he was cold. He wished that he had a thicker sweater. He wished that he could AFFORD a thicker sweater...

No. He had to stop this kind of thinking. All it would do is bring him down. And he couldn't afford that. Not at this stage in the game. He had to stay positive. After this year, he would be college bound, a shoo-in for Johns Hopkins with a 2120 SAT score and a 4.3 G.P.A. That was the only way Logan was going to get out of here and really start living. He sighed, put his earbuds in, turned on his beat up iPod, and started focusing back on Carlos. He was amazed at how graceful Carlos was on the ice. Most hockey players seemed overtly aggressive, skating directly at their opponents. But Carlos' movements were fluid and elegant. He was so agile that he could easily slip through the defender's ranks and score point after point. It really was a sight to see. He was absolutely mesmerized by Carlos' every movement.

Suddenly, the coach blew his whistle, and the players ceased their slamming into each other and went in for a huddle. Logan stood up, anticipating the end of practice. He watched as the team slowly funneled into the locker room. Logan walked down off the stands and headed off to the back door of the locker room, where he knew that the players would be coming out of. After he had been waiting for a bout 15 minutes, a player walked out, not noticing him. A couple minutes later, another boy did, glancing at him, then leaving. Then another couple. Then another couple. Finally, most of the team later, a player walked out, saw him, swivelled his head a couple of times, and asked Logan "Are you waiting for someone in there?"

Logan quickly stammered out "Uh-y-yeah. Carlos. Garcia. Is he-uh-still in there?"

The boy laughed, and said "Yeah, he's still there. He's team captain, so coach made it his responsibility that all the equipment gets put away and everything. If you're waiting for him to come out, it could be a little while still. You might as well go in. Coach won't mind, as long as you don't beat him up or something."

Logan, again stuttering, said "Uh, okay. Um, thanks." The boy smiled and said "No problem, brah," and walked away. Logan mentally grimaced at the word. How the beach-speak had migrated to Minnesota was beyond him.

He opened the door and entered the locker room. It wasn't at all what he expected. Inside, it was neat and orderly. There were no towels or, thank the Lord God, undergarments strewn about. The few players that were left were clothed and were looking like they were ready to leave. As one boy approached, moving to the door, he asked him where Carlos was. The boy said "In the showers. Coach kept him after to talk to him about a couple things. If you wanna hang around here, he should be out in a couple of minutes." Logan thanked the boy, and he left. He sat on a chair nearby, and stared at the floor, hoping neither of the remaining boys would attempt to make contact him. Thankfully, neither did, in fact leaving a couple of minutes later. He hoped Carlos would hurry up. He didn't want to make his father angry.

* * *

As Carlos stood in the shower, he began to panic a little. His math grade was beginning to affect his playing eligibility. And he couldn't NOT play. It might literally kill him. How was he going to tell his dad? How was he going to raise his grade? He shut off the water and grabbed his towel, and dried himself off. He wrapped the towel around his waist and spiked his hair, and headed back towards his locker. He was lost in thought when he suddenly heard a voice say "Car-loooos, ooooooh my..." He looked up and saw Logan staring at his torso with his mouth open and his eyes huge.

* * *

Logan could only stand there, mouth slightly agape, eyes unable to grow any wider to view the glory that was Carlos Garcia's abs. They were glistening with leftover drops of water, and he could see the muscles ripple with every movement. It was like watching a god. He felt his already damaged iPod slip through his numb fingers.

He was dimly aware of Carlos saying something, but he didn't quite catch it as Carlos' muscles started doing that rippling thing again. He watched as Carlos bent down, picked up his fallen iPod, and hand it to him. And he was still watching when Carlos' towel slipped off.

* * *

Holy shit! His towel! Why NOW, of all moments? He could feel his cheeks burning with shame as quickly bent over and turned around to re-fasten it around his hips.

* * *

Oh my God, he had just turned around, revealing his perfect butt. It was a perfectly round bubble butt, too. Dear Lord, what about this guy WASN'T big?

* * *

Carlos was in full on panic mode now. He quickly turned around, cheeks still tinged with red and one hand firmly grasping his towel. "Oh my God, I am SO SORRY. Are you ok? Do you need therapy or something? Oh man, oh man, oh man. I am SO SORRY! Please don't get me in trouble or something! I swear it was a total accident! What's wrong? SAY SOMETHING!"

* * *

Carlos was staring at him bug-eyed, seemingly on the verge of tears, ranting about how sorry he was and how he didn't want to get in trouble, but all Logan was thinking about was how absurdly, incredibly perfect the panicked boy in front of him was. He then finally came to his senses and noticed that Carlos was staring at him, eyes wide with fear. Logan could hardly stand how completely innocent and beautiful Carlos was.

He barley managed to get "I'm-I'm-I'm-I'm-I'm-your tew nutor-I MEAN NEW TUTOR!" He accidently screamed the last part, scaring them both a little bit. Carlos looked confused and taken aback, but then he saw something in his mind click, and he said "For-for math..?"

"Uhh, yeah. For math. I'm tutor."

He paused as he realized that he hadn't actually said a complete sentence. He tried again..

"Math...tutor...yeah..."

He failed.

Logan watched as Carlos slowly, bit by bit, began to relax. He finally heaved a great breath, and much more calmly ask "I'm really sorry about what happened. It was a total accident. Are you ok?"

Logan, not wanting to mess things up with his well-endowed angel, quickly replied "YES. Yes. I'm fine. Really. I promise."

"Okay. Umm, right. Okay."

It was this blessed moment that Coach Farrell walked out and asked "What was all that yelling about? Is everything okay?"

Carlos, turned quickly (one hand still firmly grasping the towel), and said "Yeah, Coach. Everything's fine. Sorry. This is Logan, my math tutor."

Coach Farrell turned and looked at the Logan, ecstatic. "Great! I've heard a lot about you! Both Ms. Alexander and Principal O'Hara had great praise for you. I hope you can help Carlos out, because we really need him for the team."

Logan replied "I'll certainly do my best, sir," managing not to trip over his words in order to give a good impression. He REALLY didn't want to mess this up.

"Great! Well, I'll be in my office. Garcia, for God's sake, put some clothes on. This isn't a peep show."

Carlos blushed again as Coach Farrell walked back to his office. As the door closed, he turned back to Logan and said "Hey, I've got practice Monday, Wednesday, Friday, so will Tuesday and Thursday work for you?"

"Y-yeah, sure. For maybe an hour and a half, or something, because I've got to get home..."

"That's perfect. We can do it at my place. I'll pick you up after school. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Great! Sounds like a date! I'll see you tomorrow!"

Logan's mind shut down again at the usage of the word "date" by the bronze, half-naked adonis. All he managed to get out as he backed toward the door was "Haaaaaaaaa..." He bumped into the door, and felt around for the door knob, still staring at the smiling boy. When he found it, he quickly opened it and rushed out.

* * *

Carlos frowned as Logan zoomed out of the locker room. Why was he so spastic? His actions changed from "freaked-out bunny mode" to public speaker and back again faster than Carlos could score a goal in the rink. But his face brightened again as he realized what this meant. Everyone knew that Logan was the smartest guy in school, and now Carlos could get closer to him for an hour and a half every Tuesday and Thursday. More, if he could convince Logan to sleep over.

His face brightened even more at that idea. Logan was cute. He could see them doing things in those romantic movies, like taking walks on the beach, or sharing ice cream and stuff. He'd like to do that with Logan. Carlos considered himself the luckiest guy in the world right now. He could hardly wait for tomorrow afternoon.

* * *

As Logan walked down his street, he smiled at the turn of events that had taken place today. He loved how adorable Carlos was when he got flustered, and seeing his eyes so wide that Logan had to resist the urge to hug him and kiss his forehead and tell him that everything was all right. And that towel drop incident…Good Lord, he was so well-endowed…He must be at least-NO. No. Not going there. Logan sighed as he remembered the deal he made with himself. No relationships. He sighed as he looked at the time under the cracked, worn-down screen. The clock at the top said 6:24.

Oh shit. Oh shit oh shit oh shit. His dad would be pissed. Pissed and hungry and wasted. No matter how many times Logan tried to explain that there was food for him to make, his dad would scream that it was his fault for not making it. "Its not the man of the house job to make dinner," he always screamed." He would then inevitably got to McDonald's and buy himself some food. Assuming, of course, that he didn't pass out on the couch. That happened a lot more often.

He checked the screen again, only to realize that the screen was frozen again. Damn thrift store. He braced himself, and opened the door.

And his dad pulled him in. He held him up by his collar, his toes barely touching the ground. He vaguely heard the door slam shut behind him, but was too busy staring into the yellowing eyes of his father. "AND WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN?"

"Dad, I'm sorry, I had to-"

"DON'T LIE TO ME, BOY! I KNOW YOU BEEN SPREADIN' LIES ABOUT ME!"

"Dad, I swear, I haven't-"

Logan's words were cut off by a sharp blow to the side of his face. He was sent spiraling into a wall, and he crumpled to the ground.

"WHO WERE YOU TALKIN' TO?"

A kick to his stomach. Logan doubled over as he temporarily lost the ability to breathe.

"WHO DID YOU RUN OFF TO? FEEL LIKE A LITTLE HERO?"

He kicked Logan in his right shoulder with his heel. Logan could have sworn he heard a snap.

"YOU'RE THE REASON YOUR BITCH MOTHER LEFT, YOU USELESS LUMP!"

Get away. He had to get away from this maniac, from this towering column of hatred. Logan forced himself up, dodging a drunken swing. He heard his father yelling at him, but his ears weren't listening. He sprinted as fast as his tired legs would allow him into the bathroom, where he quickly swung the door shut and locked it. He could hear his father hammering on the door and screaming obscenities at him. He thanked God that one of the only properly functioning things left in the house was the bathroom lock. It had literally almost saved his life in more than one occasion. He heard his father keep it up for about 5 more straight minutes, then leave. Another minute later, he heard his father's bedroom door slam shut as he went to retire for the night.

Logan slumped on the floor in between the wall and the toilet, a space he had been able to fit in since age 9. He realized how abnormal and essentially wrong it was to still be able to do that at 17. And he started to cry. And he realized that Carlos could never like a loser like him. He had too much baggage. He couldn't hear loud noises or see sudden movements without flinching instinctively. He was far too skinny to be attractive, and even if he wasn't, his shoddy cover-up job could rarely keep people from seeing his bruises. They didn't even have anything in common. Carlos was a rich boy, with a heart of gold and Logan was some poor loser from a shitty neighborhood and an even shittier life. As he tried to get up a sharp, stabbing pain hit him in the shoulder where his father had kicked him. He cried out in pain and collapsed. He just cried harder now.

He slept there that night.


	5. Chapter 5

Tuesday, October 3rd

* * *

Carlos grinned as the bell rang, signaling the end of the day. He couldn't wait to see Logan again. He hoped that everything was okay between them. He didn't want to have permanently scarred Logan or something. He had been worried when Logan wasn't in math that morning, but when he asked Ms. Alexander where he was, she said that he was in the nurse's office, and would still be able to tutor him that evening still. He rushed out the door, but froze when he saw Logan.

His right arm was in a sling, with ice on his shoulder, and he was limping pretty badly. Carlos sprinted over to him. "Logan, what-what happened?"

Logan gave him a wan smile and said "Oh, it was stupid. On the way home, I tripped and fell into the street. I reached out and tried to grab a light pole, but I ended up pulling my shoulder or something. I'm such a klutz. That's why I missed class this morning. I can barely even write."

Carlos exhaled a sigh of relief. "Thank God. I thought you were in a fight or something. Does it hurt very much?"

Logan smiled his tired smile again and replied "Yeah, but the ice helps. I think once I can get some Advil in me, I'll feel better."

Carlos smiled and said "We have Advil at my house. I'll give you a ride there. Then you can start tutoring me."

As they drove to Carlos' house, they made small talk, though Carlos was much more enthusiastic than Logan. Carlos figured that the fall must have taken a lot out of Logan. As soon as they arrived, Carlos leaned over and grabbed Logan's backpack, explaining that he didn't want Logan to pull his other shoulder in a freak accident. Logan chuckled, and said that he didn't think that was possible, but Carlos insisted.

He watched as the energetic Latino almost literally bounced to the front door. He loved Carlos' spirit and vitality. And his naivete and innocence were adorable. Suddenly, a pang of guilt hit him. He had taken advantage of Carlos and lied to him. He shook his head, as if to rid his head of the damning thoughts. 'No,' he thought, 'it was for the best. I can't afford to be shunted into the foster system now. Not when I'm so close.'

"LOGAN!"

Carlos' annoyed voice rang out like a bell. Logan snapped out of his thoughts and smiled apologetically at Carlos. "Sorry, Carlos. I guess I sort of spaced out there. What were you saying?"

"I was SAYING that I'd like it if you could help me with our quadra-whatever equations homework, 'cuz I had NO idea what she was talking about."

Logan smiled and said "They're called quadratic formulas, and sure, I love them. They're like little puzzles." Carlos frowned, almost pouting. "I hate puzzles. They're confusing. And boring."

MAN, he was adorable…

* * *

Logan froze in the middle of reexplaining to Carlos why there were numbers AND letters involved in quadratic equations when he heard the lock jiggling. He sat straight up and whispered "What's that?" to Carlos.

Carlos rolled his eyes and said "Calm down, you wimp. It's only my dad."

Logan whipped around as he heard a bright "Hello, boys!"

"M-Mr. Officer G-Garcia sir, I'm only here because-"

"Because you're tutoring Carlos, I know," Mr. Garcia finished. "I'm afraid that my boy's not the brightest star in the sky."

"Hey!" Carlos exclaimed indignantly.

Mr. Garcia chuckled gently at his son's outburst. He then turned to Logan and said "Dinner's at five. Would you like to stay? It looks like you boys have been working hard."

Carlos brightened and exclaimed "Yeah, stay! My dad makes an AWESOME lasagna."

Logan swallowed and said "S-Sure, I'd love to stay."

Mr. Garcia smiled and headed into the kitchen to prepare dinner. Carlos turned back to Logan and asked "Hey, why are you always so nervous around people? You always stutter and stuff."

Logan sighed and, choosing his words carefully, said "I have a problem talking with adults. I always feel like they're judging me, waiting for me to say something wrong."

Carlos smiled at him and said "You should do what I do. I don't think before I speak."

"Carlos…"

"Yeah?"

"…Never mind. Let's get back to work."

* * *

"Thanks for dinner Mr. Garcia! It really was delicious!" Logan said cheerily.

Mr. Garcia smiled and said "Really? I wasn't sure of whether you liked all three servings or whether you were just being polite."

Logan blushed. "Sorry. I spent lunch in the nurse's office today."

Mr. Garcia looked into his eyes and said "Yes, shame about that…fall."

Logan, in a moment of sudden bravery, looked straight back at him and said "Yeah, I'll have to be more careful from now on."

Mr. Garcia studied his face for a second and then said "Oh! I nearly forgot. Here. I packed up a Tupperware dish of the lasagna up since you liked it so much."

Logan, in his surprise, gaped at him. "Tha-thank you…"

Mr. Garcia looked out the window and said "It's starting to get dark. How about I give you a ride?"

Logan sighed. "No, but thank you. I don't want to trouble you after all you've done."

"Oh, Logan, it's fine. I insist."

"No, rea-"

"Logan. I insist."

"…Okay…"

The ride home turned out to be surprisingly casual. They chatted about simple things, like Carlos' athletic past, funny things that happened to Mr. Garcia at work, and mostly about Logan's plans for the future. Mr. Garcia was unsurprised to hear about Logan's medical aspirations, stating that with his brains and work ethic, he would make it no problem. Logan blushed, appreciating the compliment. Before long, they were at Logan's house.

"Thank you for the ride, Mr. Garcia. Today was a lot of fun." He opened the door, but before he could step out, Mr. Garcia grabbed his uninjured arm gently.

"Logan," he said, "Take care. I mean it."

Logan turned around, and looked into Mr. Garcia's eyes. There, he saw not only the concern of a police officer, but the worry and love of a father. The look made him shiver.

"…I will," he replied.

As he got out of the car, he could feel Mr. Garcia's eyes on him all the way up to the door. As he opened it, he turned around and waved, smiling. He saw Mr. Garcia wave back, and then pull away and drive off. He entered the house, and found his father sitting on the couch watching the TV. He looked at Logan, obviously a little hungover from yesterday's scuffle still.

"Hey. You. Make me some dinner."

Logan sighed and said "Right here. Lasagna. Still warm. Let me get you a fork."

Logan went into the kitchen and eventually found a "clean" fork. He made a mental note to do the dishes next time his father passed out. He went back into the living room, handing his father his dinner. As he did, their eyes connected. Logan searched his father's identical brown orbs, trying to find even an inkling of the love he found in Mr. Garcia's. All he found was a haze of alcohol and the pain of a headache. He heaved a great breath, and went to his bedroom.

As he collapsed on the bed, he smiled, remembering the cute look of puzzlement that had been on Carlos' face most of the evening, and the small temper tantrum he had thrown when Logan told him he had been over complicating a problem he had been stuck on. ("That was in the last chapter? What the hell is it doing here?" "Carlos, they want to make sure that you still understand it." "Well, that's stupid!") He silently hoped that Carlos didn't improve too quickly. He didn't want to stop their tutoring sessions anytime soon. He blushed as he remembered the previous day's events. He had secretly loved seeing Carlos so vulnerable. It was adorable.

* * *

Carlos grinned as he examined his homework. Occasionally, interspersed between his untidy scrawls were Logan's neat numbers, precise and organized, with little side notes in the margins. Even with his arm half-frozen and in a sling, Logan's handwriting was impeccable.

A couple of times during their tutoring session, Logan had taken the pencil out of Carlos' hand, and the place where their hands had brushed felt like it was burning. At one point, Logan had hummed something absent-mindedly, and Carlos hadn't been able to get the song out of his head ever since. Logan's smile and laugh were infectious, and Carlos felt nervous just thinking about Logan looking at him.

More than once, Logan had gotten up and moved be hind Carlos so he could look over his shoulder as he was working. Whenever he did, Carlos could hear Logan breathing and feel the warmth emanating from his body, and Carlos would shiver with want. Logan kept wondering why Carlos was so unfocused, and the truth was that he was too distracted by Logan. Somehow, the quiet brunette had slipped into Carlos' mind, and when Logan was around, Carlos couldn't focus on anything but him.


	6. Chapter 6

Friday, October 6th

* * *

"So how's tutoring going, Carlos?" Kendall asked they sat down at their usual lunch table. "Um, all right. Logan is a really good teacher. He's really smart and he's really good at teaching. He's got all of these tips and tricks for solving problems, and-" Carlos was cut off by James plopping down his tray next to Kendall and sighing morosely. "Krysten and I broke up," he announced dramatically. Kendall rolled his eyes. "Is that what's with the get up?", he asked dryly.

James was dressed entirely in black, donning a turtleneck (still tight enough to show off his well-defined muscles), slacks, and boots. Carlos was honestly surprised that there wasn't a beret to top it all off. Kendall rolled his eyes. "Did you now," he asked uninterestedly. "Yes," James moaned, "and I think it's for real this time."

"Then why, pray tell, were you making out with her in a bathroom earlier today? I've heard it from multiple witnesses," Kendall replied mildly. James glared at him as he retorted. "It was just a relapse, that's ALL. We really did break up." Kendall only hummed in response, casually eating a spoonful of pudding. "You believe me, don't you Carlos?" James pleaded. Carlos just giggled at James' dramatics, earning him a glare to match Kendall's.

"So, anyway, what's Logan like anymore? We haven't really talked for years," Kendall admitted. Carlos smiled as he began to describe Logan. "He's really sweet and super smart. He's kind of quiet, but I think he's just uncomfortable around people. Once we got more into it, he started cracking little jokes and poking fun at me. And-what?" he questioned. Kendall and James were both staring at each him with a funny smile.

"You were gushing," Kendall said, smirking slightly. "I-I was not!" Carlos protested, blushing heavily. James snickered. "You've got a crush on him, don't you? Look, you're blushing!" Carlos blushed as he spluttered in response. "No-I-I-We're just-"

"It's okay, Carlos, it's cute!" James said in between chuckles. Carlos (still blushing furiously) set his jaw in his angriest pout. "Fine," he announced. "I DO have a crush on him. Is that so bad?" Kendall grinned. "No, Carlos, it's sweet. If you like him, then I think you should go for it." Carlos dropped his pout, looking apprehensive. "Really? I mean, I don't want to do it yet, we barely know each other. Would he even like me?"

James sighed in exasperation. "Carlos, you get one motivational talk a year. If you ever tell anyone I said this, I will deny it, then destroy you. Do you understand? Good. Carlos, you are a catch. You're sweet, you're kind, you're funny, you're loving, you're super hot with an ass that won't quit, and I know you're packing major heat. Any guy would be lucky to have you, and if that Logan kid doesn't see that, then I'll go over there right now and kick his ass."

Kendall looked down and smiled at his food. Carlos sat there blushing, temporarily stunned into silence. "Do-do you really mean that James?" he asked timidly. James stood up and put his sunglasses on. "I don't know what you're talking about," he replied as he walked away.

* * *

"You're indoors, take off your douchebag sunglasses!" Logan heard a familiar voice call from across the lunchroom. He whipped around to see James, the resident hottie, stalking off dramatically, chin up and nose in the air. The voice was that of his old friend Kendall, grinning as he called after James. Carlos was sitting across from him, giggling, revealing his adorable smile.

As he turned back to head to his table in the corner, Logan tripped over a backpack that had strayed too far from its owner. Luckily, none of the generous servings of food that the lunch ladies had given him spilled. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" A girl ran up to him. She had sleek, brown hair, and was very pretty. She appeared to be very adept with make-up, because her eyelids were painted in the style of a peacock in eyeshadow. She was incredibly animated, to the point of being almost cartoonish. His eyes widened as he recognized her. She was the girl that gave him the make-up to cover his bruises.

"I'm so sorry! My backpack must have fallen over! Did you spill anything?" Logan looked around nervously, checking around to see if anyone was watching. Fortunately, his peers were far too absorbed in themselves to care about him. "I-I'm fine. I've gotta go..." he mumbled, hoping that the girl didn't recognize him. He ducked his head and started to walk away.

"Hey, wait. We've-we've met before, right?" she asked. Logan clenched his eyes as he felt his heart drop through his stomach. "Uh...yeah. Yeah, we have." He turned back and looked at her with pleading eyes. 'Please,' he prayed silently, 'PLEASE don't ask what happened...'

"How-" she began. She paused, seemed to consider something, then started again. "How have you been?" she asked softly. Logan sighed in relief. "Uh, fine," he said slowly. "How are you?" She smiled. "I'm doing well. I'm Camille. Roberts. Do you...want to sit with us?" she asked gesturing behind her. There were a couple of girls chatting idly at the table she had come from.

"Uh, I don't-I don't know..." he stammered nervously. She grabbed his arm and gently pulled him toward her table. "Well, I do," she declared. She dragged him over and sat him down across from her. The other girls watched, mildly interested, as she announced "Guys, this is-oh my God, I totally don't even know your name!"

"Uh, Logan. Logan Mitchell." One of the girls rolled her eyes. "Camille, are you forcing someone into hanging out with us?" Camille gasped theatrically. "FORCE him? Never!" she pronounced. The girl snorted in disbelief. She turned to Logan. "I'm Stephanie King. You don't have to sit with us if you don't want to." Stephanie appeared to be of Hispanic descent, and was rather...curvaceous. She appeared to be proud of this fact, as she wore a low-cut, tight-fitting top. In fact, all of her clothes were rather tight. Rumor had it that she and Camille were basically in charge of the theater department, Stephanie being an incredible actress and Camille working magic with make-up and costumes.

The other girl at the table, a petite blonde, smiled warmly at him. "I'm Jo Taylor. You don't HAVE to sit with us, but it'd be nice if you did. Camille roped me in at the beginning of the year when she bumped into me on accident. We've been friends ever since." Jo was small, but had a comforting smile and an inviting...spirit? Logan didn't quite know how to describe it, but something about her made Logan feel at peace. He felt a lot less nervous, at any rate.

"No, it's-it's fine. It'll be nice to not be alone for a change," he admitted. "Why are you usually alone? Are you weird?" Stephanie asked bluntly. "Don't be mean, Stephanie!" Jo chided. Stephanie just shrugged and went on. "All right, fine. At least tell us why you're usually alone." Logan blushed a little. "Um, I just never really had time for friends, I guess. Most of lunch I'm either working on the lunch line or working on homework at my table. I'm also in a lot of Honors classes, so that takes up a lot of time."

"So, you like, never party or anything? Wow, that is BLEAK." Logan stirred around his vegetable surprise, a little embarrassed by Stephanie's outspokenness. Especially since he thought it was true. By anyone's standards, he was a bit of a friendless loser. "You don't need to be uncivil, Stephanie," Jo cut in. She reached and stroked Logan's hand. "I think it's great that you're so goal-oriented. But maybe you should take a break every once in a while. Meet someone new. Socializing is important too."

"Um, actually, I did meet someone new a few days ago. Do you guys know Carlos Garcia? I'm tutoring him in math." Stephanie leaned in, looking interested. "Carlos? That boy is one hot little dish. I wouldn't mind-" Camille cut her off. "Okay, don't even finish that sentence. Nobody wants to know about your dirty fantasies." Stephanie leaned back and rolled her eyes. He was glad Camille cut her off. He had begun to feel oddly offended, like Stephanie had violated Carlos with her mind. Camille continued, looking intently at Logan. "So, what do you think of Carlos, Logan?"

"Uh-" Logan began. Thankfully, he was cut off by the bell. Stephanie scowled at the offending noise, and Jo smiled at her dramatics. Camille gently cupped Logan's arm. "Can we expect you tomorrow for lunch, too?" Logan smiled shyly. "Um, okay. Yeah. That sounds nice." Camille smiled at him as she walked past him for her next class. She waved before disappearing into the crowd. Logan gave a little wave back, still smiling. For the first time in a few years, Logan might have...friends.


	7. Chapter 7

Tuesday, October 10th

* * *

"Hey, Dad?" Carlos whispered into the phone. He was sitting in the bathroom, in blatant violation of the school's 'no phones during school hours' rule. But this was a necessary call. "Carlos, what's the matter? Why are you whispering?" his father asked, a note of concern in his father's voice. "It's okay, Dad. Well, it is for me anyway. I'm technically not supposed to be calling you." The phone crackled as his father sighed into the receiver. "Then why ARE you calling me, Carlos? This had better be important." Carlos hesitated before speaking again. "It-It is. Did you guys, um, get any noise complaints about the Mitchell's house last night?"

The exasperation left Officer Garcia's voice as he said tersely "Hold on." Carlos heard the clacking of a keyboard on his father's end as he waited, his breath hitched in his throat. "No," Officer Garcia finally responded. "But that doesn't mean that nothing happened. Why? What do you know?" Carlos felt his heart speed up as he related to his father what had happened earlier that morning. "Well, I went to talk to Logan about our tutoring session, and-I think he might have been wearing make up-but he looked like he had a bit of a black eye. And when he walked away, he looked like he was limping. And he kept rubbing his arm in the sling like it was hurting still, but normally a pulled muscle would have stopped causing him pain a long time ago."

His father inhaled sharply, and he could almost imagine him tensing up. "Listen and do exactly as I say, all right Carlos? I'll take care of this. Don't repeat what you said to anyone, especially not Logan. In fact, don't treat him any differently. He might get nervous, and I don't want that kid to do anything foolish. You understand me?" Carlos nodded slowly, trying to figure out what his father meant by 'take care of this'.

"Carlos? You still there? Carlos?" He snapped back and realized that his father couldn't see him nodding through the phone. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I can do that." His father sighed, and Carlos knew that if they had been standing face-to-face, his father would have his hand on Carlos' shoulder and would be staring deep into his eyes. "I'm going to be home late tonight. Order a pizza for you and Logan, and I'll be there in time to take him home. All right?"

"All right," Carlos responded. "And Carlos? I love you." Carlos paused for a second, still picturing his father's eyes. "I love you too, Dad," Carlos replied softly. He clicked the 'End' button on his phone and stared at it before slipping it back into his pocket. What HAD his father meant by 'take care of this'?

* * *

"Are you okay, Logan? You looked like you were limping while you were walking over here," Jo asked curiously. Logan took a small gulp as he sat down, carefully balancing his tray with his good hand. "It was stupid. I tripped over a chair or something at home." Stephanie snorted. "You're right. That WAS stupid." Camille gave a little smile. "You do seem to trip a lot..."

Jo rolled her eyes as Stephanie snickered. "Well, I'M concerned. Are you all right, Logan?" she asked again. "Wh-Yeah, I'm fine. It was nothing..." he mumbled as he blushed. Stephanie smacked the table. "Hey! I'm done with this now! Let's talk about something different!"

"Fine," Camille said. "Let's talk Winter Showcase. What were you thinking of singing, and what am I doing to make you look pretty? Fine, prettier," she corrected herself as Stephanie glared. Logan smiled inwardly. The girls had an interesting dynamic. On the outside, Stephanie's actions seemed rude, but he noticed that she really only did something like that when someone got embarrassed over a topic. For instance, when Jo asked if there were any girls he liked, he started stammering. Stephanie immediately jumped in with a "Who cares?", and started rattling off her list of potential boyfriends. She, although no to the same degree as Camille, was very outgoing and enthusiastic.

Jo was a different deal. She was very sweet and attentive, and didn't often butt into the others' conversations, choosing instead to listen with a good-humored look on her face. But occasionally, while Stephanie and Camille were talking animatedly about boys or theater or whatever they talked about, Jo would lean in toward Logan and make a very snarky comment. The first couple of times, it had caught Logan off guard, not expecting something so caustic to come from a girl that was normally so sweet, but now they had a very witty report started up. It was almost like they had a play-by-play commentary going.

But it was Camille that seemed to take the most interest in Logan. Though she was vivacious like Stephanie (it must be a theater people thing. They were all prone to histrionics), she was very straight-forward, not afraid to speak her mind. When he had shown up to school yesterday with a black eye from his father, she had marched him straight into a dressing room for the school's black box theater and reapplied make-up over his own shoddy job. Fortunately, Camille just figured that it was a neighborhood bully taking a swing at poor, clumsy Logan, and lectured him at length about how he should stand up for himself and "not take no guff from no one." There was a large amount of finger wagging in that diatribe, and Logan couldn't help but give a little half-grin.

She also had a habit of randomly plucking him out of a crowd during a passing period and marching him to his next class, often accompanied by a rant over what that "blond, dumb-ass, unfortunately hunky, meathead jock" in her Shakespeare class had said, or how "teachers just need to realize how unimportant their subjects really WERE in the long run." Logan would just smile as she unashamedly elbowed people out of her way and carried on until they reached his next class, as she had somehow gotten ahold of his schedule and memorized it. These little sojourns always ended one of two ways: either with a kiss on the cheek and breathy "Good-bye, my love," or with a smack on the ass and an offhand "Go get 'em, sailor."

"Okay, YOU," Camille declared, pointing a finger in his face. "We're going shopping on Saturday, and we're possibly-scratch that, probably going to be seeing a movie too. Can you come?" she asked, her eyes boring holes into Logan's. "I-I don't think so," he stammered, caught off guard by her sudden inquiry. "Confound it, Logan," she cried, causing several people to stare in alarm. "How are we supposed to socialize you if you don't DO anything?" Jo rested her temple on her hand, shaking her head and smiling slightly. "Camille, we haven't even known Logan for a week. What do you mean, he doesn't do anything?"

"Well, I-it's like-that doesn't matter! So help me Logan, you will go on an outing with us if it's the last thing I do!" she pronounced, nearly drowning out the bell. As she marched away, Stephanie gave him a pitying look. "She means it, too. She always gets her way." She winked back at him as she and Jo walked off together.

"LOGAN!" he heard Camille bellow. He turned to find several people near her flinching as she shouted. "Get the lead out! You need to get to English and I'm not done talking yet!"

* * *

"Logaaaaaaaaaan, can we be done yet? It's almost 4:30, and I need to order our pizza!" Carlos whined at him. Logan sighed tiredly. "Fine, but we're picking this back up on Thursday!", he called after Carlos. As soon as the Latino had heard 'fine', he had taken off for the phone in the kitchen. Logan slowly started packing up, smiling as he heard Carlos ask the man on the other end if they "had any more kinds of meat." A couple of minutes later, Carlos re-entered, looking satisfied with his choices.

"So, we still have about 20 minutes left. Is there anything else you want to look at?" Logan asked, already knowing the answer. "HELL no," Carlos declared vehemently. "Let's play some video games or something. I need to unwind."

"...All right, but you'll need to teach me how. I've never played video games before," Logan admitted. Carlos stopped dead, and turned around to look at Logan, his jaw dropped. "NEVER? We need to get you to my room STAT." He grabbed Logan's hand and dashed with him up the stairs to his room. He opened the door and pushed Logan in. "Okay, you find a game you want to play from under the TV. I'll get the controllers from the drawers over by my dresser."

The boys split as if they were executing a military order. They both rummaged through their respective drawers. They both started talking and turned around at the same time.

"This 'Modern Warfare' has obvious Soviet imagery, is it-"

"Hey, I can only find one wireless controller, so I'll take-"

They smacked into each other, and Carlos fell on top of Logan, their faces only inches apart. Logan winced as he hit the ground. His eyes clenched shut as his arm started stinging. He opened them to find a wide-eyed Carlos directly above him. Logan stared into Carlos' deep brown eyes, seeing a wide-eyed innocence that made him want to kiss him.

They both jumped as there was a knock on the door. "Probably the pizza, I'll go get it..." Carlos mumbled, blushing furiously." He clambered off of Logan and walked quickly out of his bedroom and down the stairs. Logan sat up, staring after him. He'd never wanted to kiss someone like that. Sure, he'd wanted to kiss boys before, but never so badly. That had felt...urgent. He looked at his hand, realizing that he was trembling slightly.

"Logan!" He jumped as heard Officer Garcia call his name. Of course it was him, it was still too early for the pizza. He scrambled to stand up and hurry down the stairs. "Y-Yes, Mr. Garcia?" he asked, still a little shaken. Carlos was standing behind his father, looking at the ground and shuffling his feet anxiously.

"Did you let HIM (he gestured behind him) order the pizza without supervision?" He asked incredulously. "You realize that there's just going to be a mountain of meat on that thing, right?" He breathed a sigh of relief. "That's fine, I don't really mind either way," he replied. Officer Garcia shook his head and muttered something that sounded like "teenagers" as he walked into the kitchen. Carlos looked up at Logan with the same relief that Logan looked at him with.

Mr. Garcia noted to himself that they avoided eye contact with each other for the rest of the evening.

* * *

Logan waved good-bye to Officer Garcia as he pulled away from the curb. He turned around and pushed open the door. It was never locked. Why bother? There was nothing inside worth taking. As he entered, he was greeted by the sight of his father passed out on the couch. He looked particularly roughed up tonight. Actually, the living room area looked more disheveled than usual as well. Had his father had some sort of fit before he fell asleep? Either way, he was out now, so there was no point in worrying about it. He just hoped he wouldn't have to pay for whatever he 'did' in the morning.

* * *

Author's Note: If any of you want images or floor plans of either Logan or Carlos' houses, give me your email somehow (PM or leave it in a review or something), and I'd be more than happy to fire them your way.


	8. Chapter 8

Thursday, October 12th

* * *

Logan slowly started to wake up to the sound of clinking from the kitchen. He jolted awake when there was a crash and cursing. Shit. His father was up, hungry, and probably hungover. He was going to pissed off at the absence of already prepared food for his breakfast, and Logan was not looking forward to his wrath. He pulled out his backpack and his personal store of food, quickly stuffing a couple of protein bars and a water bottle in his backpack and chucked it out the window. Logan have to pick it up once he left the house.

He hid his personal food store, and quickly got changed, not even caring what clothes he put, provided they were on the right body parts. He walked toward the door, but stopped just short of opening it. He quietly considered leaving through the window, but he knew that would end badly. The last time he had done that, his father had called the police and reported him missing. Thankfully, they hadn't shown up, they just called the school to check if he was there. But it was close call.

Logan took a deep breath, steeled himself, and opened his bedroom door. His father stopped in the middle of making himself some bacon and turned around. Shit again. He was aware, not nearly as hungover as Logan thought he would be. "Hey!" he shouted. "Why don't I have breakfast yet? Thought you'd take a morning off?" Logan tried to make himself appear smaller as his father stomped over. "I'm sorry, Dad, I must have overslept-" He braced himself and clenched his eyes as his father raised his hand to smack him, but the blow never came.

He cautiously opened his eyes and saw his father standing there, hand raised, an internal struggle raging in his head. His hand wavered, then pushed Logan roughly toward the front door. "Just get out," he growled, lumbering back towards his frying bacon. Logan took that chance and bolted to the front door, walking as fast as he could without actually running. As he closed the front door behind him. He let the breath go that he had been holding since his almost blow to the head.

What the hell was that? His father had never hesitated to hit him when he was that mad, never mind not hit him at all. Sure, there was the push, but that wasn't going to leave a bruise. He slowly walked to the side of the house, retrieving his backpack. As he slung as his backpack over his good shoulder, he rubbed his arm unconsciously. Even with his arm in a sling, his father hadn't hesitated to give him a serious beat-down on Monday. He had ended up with a black eye too. What was going through his head?

* * *

"Logan!" Camille declared, pulling him away from his locker. He managed to shut it just in time. "Have you decided whether or not you can come shopping with us?" Logan strained to talk over the crowded hallway to her. "Um, I don't know if I can, I don't really have any money..." Camille waved his excuse away like it was a bothersome fly. "Don't worry about that, my parents are rich and I love to spoil my friends. You don't have to buy anything, and I'll pay for your movie ticket."

Logan managed to dig his feet in and and stop her as she started to blow through the lunch room. "Um, if my dad let me, would you mind if I invited someone? Someone like, um...Carlos?" Camille gave him a suspicious glare. "Why, are you trying to say that we're not good enough for you?" Logan blushed slightly as he stammered out a response. "N-No! It's not like that, it-it's just...it might be nice to have another guy there..." he finished quietly, looking down and shuffling his feet. Camille gave him a curious look. "Uh-huh..." she said slowly.

She released Logan and gave him a severe look. "Fine," she said, crossing her arms. "Whatever it takes, just be there, all right?" As he turned around, her expression still said "Whatever it takes," but her eyes and slight smile said "I know what you're thinking". He walked away blushing. Camille, it turned out, could read him like a book. He just hoped he didn't read like smut.

* * *

Logan covertly looked up from his history homework to watch Carlos pore over his math problems. The little Latino was concentrating so fiercely that a bit of his tongue had snuck out of his lips as he worked. Carlos, having a large amount of pride, had insisted that Logan let him try the last few problems out on his own before Logan checked them for mistakes. Normally, Logan would have been hovering over Carlos' shoulder, silently solving the problem in his head, but right now he was trying to muster up the courage to invite Carlos to Camille's outing.

The burly hockey player was suddenly a lot more shy around Logan following the previous session's events. They still made small talk, sure, but anytime their eyes accidentally connected, Carlos would quickly turn away and blush. Logan harbored a small hope that Carlos liked him back, but being realistic, he figured that Carlos was probably just embarrassed about being in such a compromising position with his skinny, nerdy tutor.

Besides, what were the odds that Carlos was gay? One in ten? Not exactly stellar. Logan probably would have bet against himself, had there been some sort of relationship bookie. Although, it wasn't like there was any proof to the contrary. Carlos had really never been in a relationship to the best of Logan's knowledge. Generally, couples around school flaunted their relationships, and Logan had sort of adopted a habit of watching Carlos over the years. It may have been a little creepy, but the brown-skinned boy was just so vibrant and so lively, he couldn't help himself. But throughout all of his watching, Carlos really only hung out regularly with Kendall and James.

Logan couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy over James. First of all, the boy was gorgeous with his perpetually tan skin and endless muscles. But really, he was jealous of James over his company. Logan remembered how he and Kendall used to be friends, having play dates and talking about how maybe their parents would marry each other. But when Logan's dad started drinking excessively, Mrs. Knight had immediately severed the relationship. She still gave Logan a cheery smile whenever she saw him, but he still missed Kendall. He had honestly been Logan's first real friend. The fact that James got to constantly be with his old friend and the vision that was Carlos was almost literally painful for Logan.

Just then, Carlos threw his pencil down and slammed back in his chair, slumping down against the back. "Done!" he crowed in an exhausted voice, as if he'd just finished a race. Logan smiled as Carlos sighed. Perhaps all that focusing was actually tiring him out. It was delivering results, though. Carlos was showing steady improvement. He still moved through problems fairly slowly, but he was getting better at recognizing patterns and implementing formulas. Of course, he still threw a small tantrum whenever a problem stumped him. Logan had to hide a smile whenever this occurred.

"All right, let's see," Logan said, standing over Carlos. He used his own math homework as a comparison for Carlos. His writing was a little untidy, and he once even had to lean in to make out a number (it was a very squashed three), but Carlos had managed to correctly answer all of the questions. " Hey, look at that, you got them all right!"

Carlos let out a breath that he had been holding in anxiously as Logan stood up straight. "Really?" he asked, slightly anxiously. "I got them all right?" Logan smiled as he returned to his own work. "Sure did. You've really been improving. Now all we need to do is get you to speed up for a test." Carlos smiled as he admired his handiwork. "And hope that Ms. Alexander doesn't teach us anything new." Logan laughed. "Yeah, that's not gonna happen. We still have the entire year before us."

"Guess I'll still need my tutor then," Carlos said absently, putting his homework in his backpack. Logan could feel the heat rise to his cheeks as the implications of what Carlos had just said swirled around in his head. "Um, hey," he said abruptly, trying to change the subject. "My friend Camille invited me to go shopping and to a movie with her on Saturday, and I was wondering if you'd want to go with me. So far, it's just me and three other girls, and I was wondering if you'd be willing to go with me. You know, as another guy, so I'm not alone." Logan stewed there anxiously as he waited for Carlos to respond.

Carlos finally emerged from his backpack and tossed a thick envelope to Logan. "That's from my dad, I keep forgetting to give it to you." Logan opened the envelope to find a stack of bills inside. "WHAT-" he deadpanned, speechless. There was well over $100 dollars in there. "Yeah, Dad called the school," Carlos continued. "Apparently the standard fee for student tutors is $10 per half hour, so there's $150 in there." Logan couldn't take his eyes off the money. It looked like a LOT of money in there. "I can't accept this.." he said softly.

Carlos snorted. "Don't worry about it. Before my mom died, she was an investment banker. That's why we can afford a house like this. And now you have shopping money." Logan looked up at Carlos, struggling to keep his eyes from watering. "I-I don't know what to say..." he said quietly. Carlos shifted in his seat, looking a little uncomfortable. "Hey, really, don't worry about it. You earned it." Logan gently closed the envelope again, placing it gingerly in his bag.

"So, um, about the shopping trip..." Logan said again, subtly trying to wipe his eyes. "Oh, right! Um, yeah, I can do that. Sounds good," Carlos said quickly. "Okay," Logan said quietly, giving a shy smile. "Okay," Carlos responded, reciprocating the smile.

* * *

Author's Note: Hey, I recently wrote the first chapter of a new story. I won't be publishing it while I'm still writing this story, but I'd love some test readers. What I'm looking for is some constructive criticism regarding the direction off the story, as well as some suggestions of what you'd like to see, if you have any. If you'd like to be my guinea pig, message me your email. I'll be sending it from my fanfiction email account, and I promise that you won't be getting spam from me. If you're interested, let me know.


	9. Chapter 9

Saturday, October 14th

* * *

Logan sat on his bed, thumbing through the envelope of money one last time. Officer Garcia had given him $50 more for Thursday's tutoring session, bringing his total up to $200. It was all his, too. That was the amazing part. He could spend it on whatever he wanted. The problem was, he couldn't decide on what to spend it on.

His mind had immediately jumped to school supplies, but his anonymous donor had seen to that issue. He could set aside some money for food in case his father ate his way through their current stock. But even that would be, what, $50 to tide them over until next month's food stamps came in? Besides, Logan still had about $75 left on this month's welfare debit card since he only bought two weeks' worth of groceries at a time. And by the time he would even have to worry about running out of food, he would have already made more money through tutoring.

He looked down at the clothes he was wearing. He supposed...that he could go clothes shopping. He was in need of some new clothes. What he had at the present was not great. They were mostly hand-me-downs from the nice cafeteria ladies (those women really were the best), and the occasional steal from the lost and found. It was harmless, just once a year or so, he needed a new sweater or a new pair of shoes. Most of the time, the sweaters he grabbed had been sitting in there for weeks. He always felt nervous, like the original owner was going to confront him about it, but he usually found that the original owner just bought a new sweater to replace the lost one fairly immediately. A fair amount of the student population was from the richer part of town.

Even if his current wardrobe was functional, it would be nice to have some new clothes for once. The fact that he had been eyeing a relatively new sweater in the lost and found was actually a little bit depressing, even for someone in Logan's situation. And, he supposed, Camille would probably jump at the chance to take Logan shopping for clothes. She seemed like the kind of person who would enjoy giving Logan a make-over.

He got off the bed, sticking the thick envelope in his pocket. He'd have to remember to get a wallet. An envelope, while functional, was slightly tacky. And he supposed that now that he wasn't so much a beggar, he could actually be a chooser. That was an interesting feeling. He rather liked it.

He walked to his bedroom door, checking to make sure that he had everything. Camille was picking him up at the edge of his neighborhood at noon. She was planning on picking him up at his house, but he had strongly insisted otherwise. What he was planning was going to be fairly forceful, and to have to walk right back in would probably ruin the effect.

He took a deep breath, steeled himself, and walked out the door. He found his father hunched on the couch, watching TV mindlessly, beer can in hand. Logan was standing there for a few seconds before his father noticed him. "Whuh?" his father asked, slightly buzzed. "I'm going out for the day," Logan said forcefully. "You'll have to get lunch and dinner for yourself today. I'll be home later tonight. There's food in the fridge."

His father looked at him for a beat, then turned back to the TV. "Awrigh'," he slurred.

Logan blinked, surprised. He hadn't expected so little resistance. He had expected some sort of questioning or maybe anger at his father having to fend off hunger by himself, but there was nothing. Logan rather liked it. Independence was something he could work with. He wasn't exactly self-sustaining yet, but he enjoyed not having to answer to someone.

* * *

"All right," Camille announced as they got out of her car, "first off, we have to find everyone else. Since we're supposed to be meeting by the fountain, I know Jo will be there. God only knows where Stephanie is. You told Carlos to be by the fountain, right?"

Logan nodded. "Yeah, but he could have been distracted by a sports store or something."

They were at an outdoor shopping mall, and judging from what he could see of it, the mall was very large. It was opulent, with colorful buildings and trees poking out here and there. Logos of different stores and restaurants popped out here and there. It was like a little island of fashion, made up entirely of businesses.

As they neared the edge of the shopping center, Camille pulled a map out of her pocket and unfurled it. As Logan looked over her shoulder, his mind boggled at the sheer immensity of the entertainment complex. It was monstrous. There were well over 100 different establishments in the shopping complex, including a movie theater, restaurants, clothing stores, pet stores, sporting good stores, and even small businesses like a CPA, a dry cleaner, and a thrift shop.

The center itself was very well arranged in Logan's opinion. It centered around a large fountain (the one they were supposed to be meeting at) and courtyard, complete tables and benches and a "pet friendly grassy area" according to Camille's brochure. That center area was surrounded by three concentric circles of shops.

The first two rings' shops were smaller in size, and they had stores facing in either direction. The outer-most circle of shops were all very large, and they all faced inward. There was a break in each of the three rings in each direction, allowing for people to reach the center of the shopping center from any direction. He also noted that in the center of each of the middle circle's four sections, there was a large store that had entrances from both end. It was a clever adjustment on the designer's part, allowing people to get from from area to area more quickly, while allowing those particular stores to get more foot traffic.

The first circle of shops were all small merchants. There were lots of little things, like a salon, a massage parlor, the aforementioned dry cleaner, and a couple of stationary stores and rare book stores that Logan was curious about. Along with those were jewelry shops, some small cafés, and health and beauty stores.

The middle ring was very diverse. A lot of the stores here were small businesses, judging by their names. The exception were the stores that had entrances on either side, which were some of the nation's biggest brand names. Logan assumed that there had been a large bidding war on those particular stores. In this circle were stores that sold games, toys, pets, shoes, and both athletic and everyday clothing, as well as the occasional gallery and furniture store.

The outer ring was where the brand names really came into play. There was an Apple store, a Barnes & Noble, an Urban Outfitter, a Forever 21, an Abercrombie & Fitch, an American Eagle...there were several. There were also a few sit-down restaurants, though Logan assumed that they were fairly expensive.

Overall, the shopping center was fairly overwhelming for Logan. It was huge, and Logan had no idea what to do. Fortunately, Camille (as Logan should have guessed) had a plan of action already formed. "All right," she declared, once she was done examining the map, "we'll pick up the others first, then we'll just make our way through each separate ring. You wanted to like, make-over your wardrobe, right?"

Logan nodded. "Yeah, but for as little as possible. I'd like to try and stretch my money as much as I can..." he said, a little embarrassed.

"Sound reasoning," Camille said, smiling. She started walking toward the jungle of stores. "And don't worry. I'm a GENIUS with wardrobes, and both Jo and Stephanie have great taste. Carlos will probably let us know if we start dressing you to girly," she said, rolling her eyes. Logan laughed softly. He was actually really glad that he had some help shopping. "What do you prefer, clothing-wise?", Camille asked.

Logan thought about it for a second as the buildings loomed before them. "Uh, I generally wear darker clothes, without any logos. I dunno why."

Camille scoffed. "Well, if you can't justify it, then we're totally going to experiment with different styles."

"All right," he said, slightly shyly. They finally passed through the entrance of the shopping complex, and Logan was completely dumbfounded. This place was its own little...world. It seemed like it could be completely self-sufficient. The people here were all so glamorous, Logan felt more out of place here than he did at school.

There were the stereotypical rich women, in clacking high heels with tiny little dogs in their handbags, and little clusters of teenage girls ran abound. There were some (clearly) gay boys wandering around, and there was an older gay couple that Logan found oddly reassuring. Any sort of person you could imagine, Logan saw within the first two minutes of walking into the shopping center.

The center of the plaza was wonderful. The fountain itself was breathtaking. There were several figures holding up a large bowl, from which several jets of water emanated. The figures were from Greek mythology. Logan recognized Aphrodite, whose clothing was VERY loose, Zeus, who supported the fountain with a large lightning bolt, Artemis, with a deer standing lovingly behind her, and Poseidon, who had a trident that also shot out jets of water. All of the jets fell gently into a small pond-like basin, which had many varieties of fish swimming in it. It was incredibly ornate and beautiful. Logan felt like he could have stared at it forever.

There were three small areas surrounding the fountain. One was a small lawn, enclosed within a small white gate. It was a small dog park, in which several dogs were frolicking freely.

Another section had an outdoor cafe-type air to it. There were circular tables near several little food shops, where people were chatting happily with little foodstuffs.

The third section consisted a few ornate wooden benches facing toward the fountain and the other sections. Just like the stereotype there were several old couples sitting on them and people-watching.

Stephanie and Jo were standing by the fountain. From the looks of it, Jo was listening to Stephanie judge people that were passing by. Jo was listening with a half-smile on her face, like she was enjoying it, but didn't want to look like she approved of it. Stephanie, meanwhile, had a huge grin in her face, and often broke into raucous laughter.

Jo suddenly took notice of them approaching. She gave a small wave and a friendly smile to them, then nudged Stephanie, who was glaring at an oblivious teen wearing jeggings. They both started walking toward Camille and Logan, meeting them halfway.

Jo gave Logan a pre-cursory hug, while Camille wrapped her arms around an unyielding Stephanie. "For God's sake," Stephanie said impatiently, "we saw each other yesterday. Are you going to start crying too?"

Camille sighed. "Oh, just be nice. It's what friends do," she said, releasing Stephanie.

"No," Stephanie replied wisely, "that's what acquaintances do. Friends start laying into each other. By the way, you said we're re-doing your wardrobe, right Logan?" she said suddenly.

"Uh, yeah," Logan said, caught off-guard. "Most of my stuff is hand-me-downs, so it'd be nice to have some new clothes for once." There was an uncomfortable silence. Camille stealthily slipped her smart phone into her purse, while Stephanie looked slightly guiltily at her expensive looking bracelet. Jo just gave Logan a comforting smile.

"Logan!" a familiar voice called out behind him. Logan had never been so happy to hear Carlos. He turned around with intentions to greet Carlos and introduce him to the girls, but his words caught in his throat before he could utter a single syllable. Carlos had dressed (most likely by accident) in an extraordinarily sexy way.

He was wearing a tight, sleeveless muscle tee that not only displayed his wonderfully muscular arms, but also hid nothing of his brawny pecs and simply magical abs. There were some words scrawled across his chest, but Logan had forgotten how to read. He was wearing some athletic shorts that you would normally see basketball players wear during practice. They hung loose, but they somehow managed to clearly emphasize the size of Carlos'...package. There was a clearly large bulge hanging in between his meaty thighs, and for some odd reason, Logan suddenly felt incredibly thirsty. Girls around him watched him interestedly, while guys looked on in envy. Carlos was oblivious to all this, staring only at Logan with a huge grin.

"Logan," he said again as he arrived at the group, "good to see you!" He enveloped Logan in a tight hug, his thick arms enveloping Logan like some sort of simile where something is wrapped tightly around something else. He could smell Carlos' fruity body wash, and he had to resist the urge to bury his nose in the crook of Carlos' neck. For the first time in his life, with Carlos pressed up against him all tight, Logan felt genuinely...horny. Carlos released him, and the fire in his loins died down just as quickly as it had flared up. "So, who are your friends?"

Logan's verbal stupor died down in time to say "Oh, uh, this-this is Camille, and Jo, and Stephatie-Stephanie," he said haltingly. Normally, his mispronunciation of Stephanie's name would have earned him a harsh smack from the diva, but presently, she had eyes only for Carlos.

"Mmmmm, Carlos, how are YOU doing?" she asked in an aroused voice.

"Uh, all right, I guess. I had a pretty intense work-out this morning, so I'm sort of looking forward to relaxing," he said, rubbing his arm awkwardly. "Mmmmm," Stephanie hummed, too busy giving him a once-over to actually respond. Logan gave her hostile stare, which she didn't even register. He felt oddly threatened by her. Jo gave Carlos a polite handshake and inquired about his work-out, as Camille was pre-occupied with giving Logan a knowing look, which also went unseen.

After the group exchanged pleasantries, they started discussing where to begin. Carlos suggested starting off with some ice cream, which was quickly agreed upon. They set off, Carlos leading the pack. Logan tripped, being completely blind-sided by Carlos' magnificent hindquarters. His ridiculously sexy bubble butt looked amazing in those shorts, second only to the time that Carlos had accidentally dropped his towel. It was going to be a long, angst-filled day, by the look of it.


	10. Chapter 10

"I can't believe you got vanilla, Logan. It's so...vanilla," Carlos declared. Logan was holding a small bowl of vanilla ice cream, which really looked a little pathetic next to Carlos' chocolate monstrosity. He'd gotten a chocolate covered waffle bowl, and in it was chocolate chunk ice cream with chocolate sauce and chocolate syrup all over it. It was truly a sight to behold. He had denied the spoon he was offered, choosing instead to suck on it like it was an ice cream cone. It was both ridiculous and adorable at the same time.

"Hey," Logan responded, "vanilla is a legitimate flavor. Otherwise cooks would have no use for vanilla extract." He took a small bite of his ice cream, savoring the delicate flavor swirling about in his mouth.

"Good for you, Logan," said Camille, coming up behind him with a small bowl with a scoop of both caramel and coffee flavored ice cream in it. "Stand up to that mean flavor bully." Carlos scoffed as he leaned in to suck on his chocolate overload again. When he resurfaced, he had a smidgen of chocolate sauce on his nose.

Logan had a strong urge to do several things. One option was to kiss it off. Another option, very similar to the first, was to lick it off. The third option was to just rip Carlos' clothes off and have him right there in the ice cream shop. He chose to blush furiously and stammer instead.

"Carlos, you, uh-you got a-a little bit of-uh..." he mumbled, rubbing his own nose for reference. Carlos stared at him blankly for a bit, then Logan swore he saw a lightbulb turn on over his head. He wiped the sauce off with his thumb, then stuck his thumb in his mouth and sucked the chocolate off. Logan shuddered his his thumb came out with a slight 'pop!'

"So, where are we off to first?" Stephanie asked between suggestive and surprisingly dexterous licks of her cone of rocky road.

Jo swallowed her dainty bite of green tea frozen yogurt. "Well, we're re-doing Logan's wardrobe, so maybe we should ask him. Logan?" she asked politely.

Logan gulped. "I, uh, I don't even know where to start," he said, slightly flustered. "I'm not looking for a lot with clothes. I'm really more interested in functionality than fashion," he said honestly.

"Okay," Stephanie said decisively. "Then here's what we're going to do. We're going to go thrift store shopping. I know that you wanted new clothes, but it's super fun, and you never know what's going to be in there. Sound good?" she asked, sounding like she had made her mind up anyway.

The others looked to Logan for a response. "Sure," Logan said with a slight smile. Thrift store shopping could be fun. His lost and found searches were basically the same thing anyway. Only this time, he could afford to be choosy. Like, literally afford it.

As they entered the thrift shop, Logan was surprised by how...normal it was. He was expecting some sort of hoarder nightmare land, but in reality, it looked like any other type of clothing store. There were rows of clothing, organized by type of clothing, then by color. Lining the walls were shelves with several types of footwear, hats, and all sorts of accessories.

Camille immediately took charge of the situation, barking out commands like a general giving orders to his troops. "Okay everyone, remember that we're here to make LOGAN look pretty. Don't y'all go off looking at things for yourselves. Logan doesn't know what he wants-"

Logan tried to object here, but he was quickly shushed by Camille. He fell silent again with a slight grin.

"ANYWAY, Logan was INDECISIVE about what he wanted, so if you find something you think would look good on him, slap it on him. Okay, break!" she finished, immediately marching off toward a section full of pink sweaters. The others wandered off into various sections with an amused look on their faces. Logan wandered into a section with blue hoodies. He started picking through them, looking for a specific hoodie. It was a ridiculously long shot, but-

Then he found one. A sable blue hoodie with "Johns Hopkins" written across the chest in gold. This was his dream. This was how he was going to escape. He had applied for dozens of scholarships and he knew that he had the grades and SAT scores to make it in.

"Logan!" Carlos suddenly appeared at the end of his row. "I found something for you!" Logan quickly shoved the Johns Hopkins sweater back onto the rack and shoved all of the sweaters back together, hiding it from Carlos. "What was that?" he asked curiously.

"Uh, nothing," Logan replied quickly. "What, uh, what did you find?" Carlos gave him an impish smile and pulled a leather jacket out from behind his back. "I think you need to get this."

"What? No. Definitely not. I can't pull off a leather jacket!" Logan protested. Carlos slowly started advancing on him with the hand holding the jacket outstretched in front of him. Stephanie poked her head around the corner of the rack from behind Logan.

"What's going on? Are you two f-is that a leather jacket? YES. Logan, you're going to put it on immediately." Stephanie grabbed a spluttering Logan by the wrist, dragging him toward the mirrors while calling for Camille to come join them. Carlos bounced along behind Logan happily, unzipping the jacket.

Stephanie placed Logan directly in front of the mirror while Carlos slipped the jacket on Logan from behind. It was a standard black leather jacket, with a couple of pockets in front and a zipper in the middle. "Final touch," Carlos whispered in his ear, setting a pair of aviator sunglasses over his eyes. He withdrew his hands, whispering "Wow," so that only Logan could hear him.

He could vaguely hear Camille shrieking in delight and Stephanie making some remark, but he was focused intently on the warmth he had felt around him while Carlos slipped the jacket on, and Carlos' hand gently brushing his cheek as he put the sunglasses on. He was glad that he had the sunglasses on, because instead of admiring himself in the mirror, he was watching Carlos, who was still standing directly behind him.

"I think I'll get it," he said quietly. Carlos smiled, and Logan was surprised by how modest his smile was. It was like he was slightly surprised that Logan would take his advice. Carlos helped him shrug the jacket off, and Logan took off the sunglasses, and they walked toward the check-out aisle. Jo followed behind them, ushering Camille and Stephanie, who were chatting excitedly about "giving Logan a new image" and "a complete make-over".

Logan walked out of the store wearing the jacket and sunglasses, which had only cost Logan about $25 altogether. Even Logan knew that he had just scored a great deal. "All right," Stephanie said in a domineering tone, "next stop is H&M in the outer rim."

Logan frowned at her. "What's H&M?"

"It's where hipster goes to be mainstream," she said, as if it should've been self-explanatory.

Logan looked incredibly confused at that. "I have no idea what you mean by that..."

Camille smiled comfortingly. "Don't worry, Logan, it's great. It's upscale and trendy, but affordable. I think it'll be right up your alley." Camille linked her arm with Logan's. "All right, my love, let's away."

Logan had to admit, the jacket was cool. With a pretty girl like Camille on his arm, he even managed to attract attention from passers-by. When Stephanie linked up to his other arm, he definitely got stares. He wasn't sure if he liked the attention. It was nice to be noticed, but he was really uncomfortable with the entire thing.

* * *

"Okay," Camille said, picking up Logan's most recent purchases, "Mr. Mitchell and I need to drop all of this new, pretty crap off at my car, and then we'll be back for the movie. Wait for us in front of the theater?" The others agreed amiably, and they wandered off together. Logan noticed with a twinge of jealousy that Stephanie looped her arm in Carlos', and Carlos accepted it.

As they walked away with the multitude of bags, Camille gave him a knowing smile, as she was prone to doing. Logan looked at her nervously. "What?" he asked, thinking of all the things she could have on her mind.

"So, Jo and I were texting behind your back all afternoon, and she says that you and Carlos definitely have a thing for each other. What's all that about?"

Logan was completely flustered. He had forgotten how observant Jo was. Mostly because the petite blonde was so quiet. He liked it much better when she was imparting her observations to him. "I-wha-we-I-" Logan floundered.

"I knew it!" Camille crowed triumphantly. "You like him! Jo's gonna be sad, she thought you were cute, but I KNEW IT!" She gave a merciless cackle while Logan turned a violent shade of red.

"I-I-I don't, you know, like, KNOW that I like him, but I-I think that he's, um-he's...you know...cute, I guess..." he finished in a quiet mumble. His face only grew more red as he talked, and he tried to hide it by looking at the ground.

"Oh, is this your first crush, Logan?" she said in an apologetic tone. Logan nodded, somehow turning even more red. He was entirely positive that he was more red than any of the shiny, shiny cars in the parking lot. "Ohhh, I'm sorry for laughing, Logan, that was mean. It's okay to have a crush!" she said affectionately.

"I-I know, but I don't really want a boyfriend right now, and statistically speaking, he probably doesn't even like me back. Does he?" he added as an afterthought.

"We'll come back to that later," she said in a practical tone. "First things first: why don't you want a boyfriend."

Logan sighed, mentally pulling out his list of reasons. "It's just too...complicated. It consumes a lot of time and energy, and I don't really have any I can expend right now. I really want to focus on getting into college and passing school with the best grades I can. There's a school that I really want to get into, and I can't afford any distractions."

They finally came upon Camille's car, and she remotely unlocked and opened the trunk. "That," she said seriously, "is the most bullshit reason I've ever heard for anything, and someone in my English class actually said that their dog at their homework once. Tell me the REAL reason, Logan," she said, eyeing him sternly.

"I-I don't know what you mean," Logan said confusedly. "That's my real reason."

"All right," Camille said sagely, you want to know what I think? I think you're scared. I think you're scared about the fact that you're making a commitment to someone, and you're putting yourself out there. You've never had to explain your feelings to anyone before, and you've never had to consider anyone else's because you've been on your own for so long.

"I think you're scared of getting in too deep, and making a real connection, because you're afraid of getting hurt, and feeling the kind of pain that a band-aid can't heal. So you buried yourself in work and study and you didn't come out of your shell until I made you. I still think that you're only poking the tip of your nose out, and you're still holding back on me. I don't know what you're keeping secret, but I think it needs to come out, Logan. I think it's time for you to open up."

She finished her small tirade and stood there looking him directly in the eye, unabashedly. Logan stood there shocked. He felt that the small breeze that was lightly blowing through Camille's hair could have knocked him over. He started trembling, then without notice, rushed forward and caught Camille in a tight hug. As she stroked his hair soothingly, a single tear crawled down his cheek, eventually falling onto Camille's shirt.

"Anytime you're ready to open up, I'm here for you, Logan."


	11. Chapter 11

"Why can't you calm down?" Camille asked, smacking him on the arm. Logan wiped his eyes again and glared at her.

"Gee, I don't know Camille, it's almost as if someone broke down some of my deepest emotional issues and spoon-fed them to me." He pulled a napkin from his pocket, and blew his nose with it. "How do I look?" he asked worriedly, not wanting to embarrass himself in front of Carlos.

She gave him a once-over, and rolled her eyes. "You look fine. Your eyes are a little glassy, but that's all. If you stopped rubbing them, then they wouldn't look so irritated. God, you're such a woman about these things. You better pray Carlos is a top," she said in a warning tone.

Logan wiped his hands on his jeans. He straightened his jacket, cleared his throat, and said "Okay, I'm ready." Camille rubbed her temples and muttered something about "such a queen", and escorted Logan to the theater, arm in arm with him.

"About time," Stephanie complained when they finally arrived. "We were about to just go in without you."

"No we weren't," Jo said, sounding exasperated.

"Fine," Stephanie asserted, "I was planning on going in without you. Goodie goodie and the red hot chili pepper probably would've stayed for you."

Logan laughed. Half of the things Stephanie said were off-color, and occasionally they were borderline racist, but they were always funny. It was probably the way that she delivered the lines so flippantly, with an air that could be described as non-chalant. She toed the line between offensive and hysterical, but did it tastefully, like a talented stand-up comic.

"I think that's what Carlos' nickname will be from now on," Camille said with a laugh.

"Change approved," Stephanie said before Carlos could protest. She gave him a grin as his shoulders slumped in defeat. Jo put his arm around his shoulders comfortingly.

"They made me 'goodie goodie' the first day they met me. I feel your pain," she said soothingly. "In fact, I'm surprised that they haven't given Logan a new name yet."

"Oh, we're working on it," Stephanie declared confidently. "We just need to find on that truly does him justice."

* * *

Logan jumped in his chair again, letting out a small shout. The group was sitting through a horror movie about a group of friends wandering into a haunted house. So far, three of the seven had died, and Logan was petrified.

He hadn't wanted to see the movie, but he hadn't really protested when they were deciding which movie to see. To be honest, he still felt a bit like an outsider in the group of friends. Jo at least had protested. She also didn't like scary movies.

Stephanie, unsurprisingly, liked them because she thought they were funny. She could be heard cackling loudly as each character died. She was currently giggling as a (very attractive, underwear-clad) boy was writhing in pain. Camille, it turned out, enjoyed the special effects, especially the make-up. She often got tips from extreme movies like this. And Carlos naturally like the adrenaline rush from scary movies. His eyes were shining and he was leaning forward in his seat in excitement.

Suddenly, the attractive boy's guts shot out of his stomach, and Logan jumped so badly that he almost fell out of his chair. He started hyperventilating, and he could feel his eyes welling up with tears. Suddenly, a strong hand gripped his own. He looked over and saw a very blurry Carlos holding his hand and smiling at him. He leaned in, and in a hushed, calming voice, said "Hey, you're okay. It's just a movie."

Logan swallowed and nodded with a slight smile. He wiped his eyes with his free hand and squeezed Carlos' hand. He chuckled a little bit as Stephanie shrieked with mirth, reenacting the gut explosion.

* * *

"What?" Logan finally snapped, getting tired of Camille's goofy, knowing look. The movie had ended, thankfully (Logan had accidentally shoved his face behind Carlos' back in a moment of pure terror. He had re-emerged once the scene ended, blushing furiously, while Carlos giggled at how red he was turning. They had said their goodbyes, and each headed off their own separate ways.

Presently, Logan was sitting in Camille's passenger seat as she drove him home. She had been giving him this look that clearly said 'We both now what happened, let's talk about it'. It was creepy. "So, you and Carlos were getting pretty handsy in there," she finally said. "You want to tell me what you were doing?"

Logan groaned. "Nothing happened, Camille. I got scared by the movie, so he tried to calm me down by...um...holding my hand. Oh, hush!" he snapped again as Camille hooted with laughter.

"Jo got scared to, but all she did was wring her hands and jump! She didn't even scream! You, on the othre hand, practically had your head in his lap!" She cackled maniacally as Logan blustered.

"It-I-We-MY HEAD WAS NOT IN HIS LAP!" he finally managed to exclaim. "There is a LARGE difference between his back and his lap!" He blushed furiously again.

Camille's laughter finally died down, and there was silence in the car for a while. Then, se suddenly asked "So, are you going to ask Carlos out?"

Logan was left spluttering again. "What?" he finally managed to say.

"Well, you like him, and I think he likes you so, why don't you ask him out? I honestly don't see any reason why not." Logan hadn't actually seriously thought about asking Carlos out. He had always just replayed that argument over and over in his head until he stopped thinking about it. He took a couple minutes to think it over.

"Because, I'm...scared. Without getting into it right now, it's a lot more complicated than asking him out and seeing what happens. There are too many factors, too many uncontrolled variables. My life right now...it just isn't conducive to trying a relationship, especially with someone as special as Carlos. It wouldn't be fair to either of us."

They sat there again in silence, Logan feeling slightly embarrassed. He was so uncomfortable opening up that the couple of times he had done it to Camille, he just felt like he was dumping all of his problems on her, and she didn't deserve that. She appeared vapid and unsophisticated on the surface, but Logan was quickly discovering that she was incredibly intelligent and insightful. She had the ability to analyze, and more importantly, understand people's complexities. Or, at least she could do it with Logan. He wouldn't have been at all surprised if she confronted him about problems at home.

She spoke up again a couple of minutes later, staring a hole through the windshield, a look of concentration on her face as she chose her words. "I think that you have...unrealistic expectations of what a relationship consists of. People our age have the idea that a committed relationship is spending all of their time together, because that's what their perception of a couple is. They don't know what responsibility is.

"I get the feeling that you have a lot of responsibility in your personal life, probably more than you should at this point. And I think that you have a stark, pragmatic expectation from a relationship. My guess is that what you want in a relationship is a life partner, someone to share responsibility with. And you shouldn't be looking for that yet. You should play the field, get out there and get a feel of who you actually DO want to spend the rest of your life with. You might have an idea of who you want now, but that could end up changing. You never know until you actually try."

It was at this point that Camille looked over at Logan, and when she did, she felt horrible. Logan was staring at his shoes, tears actually streaming down his face. Before, his eyes had welled up, but now he was actually crying. His arms were wrapped around his mid-section, like he was trying to hold his guts in. He was grabbing his sides so tightly that his knuckles had actually turned white. When he finally looked up at her, he insides melted. There was an intense, unimaginable pain in his eyes, a look that said someone had taken his innocence and murdered it in the most violent way possible.

"I-I-" he started to say, but the words stuck in his throat like barbs. What would he have said anyway? That he was beaten regularly just for the hell of it? That he had never actually felt loved before in his life? The he had contemplated suicide before, just because it seemed so much easier than trying to live? She didn't deserve that kind of knowledge dumped on her. He knew that she cared for him, but she had no idea what kind of issues lay rooted within him. He didn't need a psychiatrist to tell him that he was fucking messed up.

She leaned over and opened her glove box, pulling out a packet of tissues. "I'm so sorry," she said as she handed them to him. "I didn't mean to pry or hurt you, I just..."

Her words trailed off as Logan shook his head. He wiped his eyes and hiccuped slightly. "It's not-I-" He was again at a loss for words. He looked out the window and was shocked to find that they were parked at his house. "How did you..."

She just gave him a slight smile and said "I don't reveal my sources, Logan. Now go inside and get some sleep. Do you want some help carrying in your new stuff?"

Logan shook his head. "No, there's not that much. I'll be fine. Thanks, um...thanks for everything.." he said, a little embarrassed at his hysterics. He unbuckled his seatbelt, but was unable to leave the car due to Camille wrapping her arms around him tightly. "If you ever need someone to listen to you, go to Jo. She's a great listener and she doesn't get all shrinky like I do," she said into his shoulder.

He gave a little laugh at that.

* * *

Logan dropped the bags on his bedroom floor, preparing to sort them into his dresser, hidden beneath all his old, ratty clothes. When he opened the first bag, he was shocked to find clothes that he hadn't bought. There were running shorts, "moisture-wicking" shirts, a couple of hand towels, and a plastic, reusable water bottle. He found the receipt and noticed a not on the back.

"Logan, I went off and got you some athletic clothes. Would you want to work out with me sometime? -Carlos"

Below that was written

"I told you so. -Camille"

He smiled in spite of himself.


	12. Chapter 12

Monday, October 16th

* * *

Logan snuck out of the house at about 6:30 that morning, wanting to completely avoid his father while he was wearing his new clothes. He had briefly considered putting them in his backpack and waiting until he got to school to wear them, but he decided that maybe that was a little too paranoid. It was to this effect that he stooped dropping his backpack in the bushes behind his bedroom window. He would be fine as long as he made sure to get up earlier than his father did. That wouldn't be too hard seeing as how his father still passed out drunk every night.

To his father's credit, he had at least slowed down his drinking. What would have been about eight beers a night had slowed down to about five. He hadn't beaten Logan in about a week either. That was the longest he had gone without it while still actually seeing his son (one time they had gone a week and a half without seeing each other. It was the best ten days of Logan's life).

Still, there was no telling what might set his father off. He was volatile, like an easily excited pit bull. He would still have to tiptoe around him, especially since they were running low on food. He'd have to go shopping on Wednesday. If his father was left without food, there was no escaping that meltdown.

* * *

Carlos tapped his pencil against his notepad anxiously. He was sitting in math, jittering while staring at Logan, who was staring intently at the board. Logan hadn't said anything to him yet today, not even about the surprise gift Carlos had left for him among his shopping bags. That made him nervous. What if he was coming on too strong?

Jo had told him that Logan could be a little flighty, and still seemed nervous around other people. He silently cursed himself for not being more observant. It just wasn't in his nature to notice little things in people's behavior. Hell, sometimes he didn't even notice the big things. He still didn't even know if Logan was gay. Logan didn't really show any surefire SIGNS of being into guys.

He sighed as Logan started scribbling furiously in his notes. Chances were good that Logan didn't like him. Actually, if Carlos were to make an honest guess as to Logan's sexuality, he'd probably end up at the conclusion that Logan didn't even have one. He was just...Logan. He turned his attention to the board. Logan would be upset if he hadn't taken any notes for their tutoring session tomorrow.

* * *

Logan grimaced as he saw Camille glance over at him again. She had been looking at him, waiting for him to join them every three minutes as if she had a timer. Actually, Logan wouldn't have been surprised if she did have a timer specifically for that purpose. That was just her personality.

He couldn't even look at Carlos. He'd been trying to imagine the nature of Carlos' gift all weekend. Actually, he'd been agonizing over it. Part of him wanted to believe that it was Carlos' way of giving them some way to get together and fall in love, but reality told him that he was overanalyzing. Carlos, being the amazing person that he was, probably just bought them for Logan so that they could be better friends. That, and he probably worried about how emaciated Logan looked still. Even his new clothes sort of hung off of him.

It was to this point that Logan was dreading their tutoring session tomorrow. He had no idea how to respond to Carlos' gift. In honesty, working out with Carlos seemed like a fun, albeit frightening, prospect. He'd like to look like a normal human being, but he didn't know where they would find the time to even do it. Carlos was probably exhausted after his practices Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, and Logan needed to be home before 6, so they couldn't do it after tutoring on Tuesdays and Thursdays. It was a nice, but ultimately useless, gesture.

Even more disconcerting was the fact that people had started to take notice of him. Like, as he walked down the halls, not just when he solved a ridiculous problem or rattled off some obscure fact. He had originally thought that it was because of his new wardrobe (after all, clothes make the man), but as he heard snippets of conversation, he soon realized that it was because word had gotten out that he was Carlos' new math tutor. Apparently, associating with popular people raised your social status, even if it was for a strictly academic purpose. Although, after this last weekend, it wasn't so strict anymore. His relationship with Carlos was getting complicated. And social problems, unlike those from math, were not so easily untangled. You can't just cancel out feelings.

It was at this point that one of the lunch ladies actually took notice of him."Logan," a nice woman named Imelda said in surprise, "you're still here? Go eat, and sit with your friends." Logan tried to protest, but soon found himself shoved out with a heaping pile of mac & cheese. He sighed as he wandered toward the girls' table. Time to face the inquisition.

"Oh, Logan, so good of you to join us," Camille said, with sarcasm hidden none-too-well. "Jo shushed her with a wave of her hand.

"So, how are you liking your new clothes?" she asked kindly. "Do they wear well?"

Stephanie snorted. "It looks like they wear HIM well," she said under her breath. Jo shot her a quick glare before turning back to Logan. Before he responded, he had a quick flashback to Camille telling him that Jo thought he was cute.

"They, uh, they're fine. They're really nice. Thanks for going with me to pick them, you guys." Jo looked modestly pleased with herself, while Camille and Stephanie exchanged significant glances.

Camille was the one who piped up. "So, were there any...surprises among your purchases?" she asked subtly.

Stephanie was not nearly as subtle. "Cut the crap, Logan, we know Carlos bought you some exercise clothes. What we don't know is what you're going to do about it. Are you going to take him up on his offer?" Jo sighed defeatedly and Camille rolled her eyes, but it was on a brief lapse, for soon after all three had their attention turned back on him.

"I, uh, I don't think so..." Logan admitted, feeling a little embarrassed. Camille and Stephanie groaned dramatically, and even Jo looked rather disappointed, although she wasn't as vocal about it.

" Why nooooooot?" Camille whined. "It's so obvious he likes you! I mean, he went and bought you work-out clothes. Like three entire outfits. Guys don't do that if they just want to be friends. Plus, you saw the note!"

Stephanie shot a glare at Camille. "There was a note? You didn't tell me about the note." Camille absently waved her off as she started talking again.

"I mean, let's be real. He bought you clothes so that you could spend more time together and form a common interest besides how bad he is at math. Logan, he is sending you signs left and right like I've never seen. Are you seriously telling me that you didn't pick up on them?" she asked incredulously.

Logan blushed a little, starting to get embarrassed again. He was saved, as he had been before, by the bell ringing. Camille and Stephanie shot him death stares. "This isn't over," Camille said ominously. She and Stephanie stalked off, noses in the air. Their concern and interest in Logan was quite frightening.

He turned as he felt Jo loop her arm in his. "Walk with me for a little bit. You don't have to talk, just listen." He nodded, and they started walking leisurely in the direction of Logan's next class.

"Unlike our more confrontational friends," she began, "I'm not going to ambush you with questions that you possibly don't know the answer to yourself. That's not my style," she said, with a swooping hand motion. Logan gave a sort of half smile. "I'm just going to lay out what I know for your own edification. Now, you know that I'm more of a wallflower. Some call me anti-social. I prefer to think of myself as a background friend. We can't all have huge personalities. And I feel like you're the same way.

"Now, unlike you, I like to ponder about the deeper meanings between my friends and their interconnected relationships. I'm actually thinking of turning it into a sociology or psychology degree. For example, Camille and Stephanie like to think of themselves as a dynamic duo, but they're in constant passive competition. Camille envies Stephanie's ability to get or do whatever she wants with minimal effort, like her natural talent like performing. Stephanie, on the other hand, wants Camille's drive and dedication to her work, such as her insanely practiced hair and make-up routines. Seriously, she can make a bruise appear and disappear in under a minute, all with make-up. It's ridiculous."

Logan was shock. Firstly because he had never heard Jo speak this much. It turned out, once she got started, she could just ramble. But he was also surprised at how observant she really was. Logan had begun to pick up on the other girls' competitive spirits as well. He tuned back into Jo as she started to reach her point.

"But I digress. What I've noticed about you is that you're very sweet and polite, but in all honesty, you're clueless in social situations. Which is why it's good Camille picked you up off the proverbial street. Interpersonal interaction is an essential life skill. Why do you think I'm friends with them, despite not being a Type A personality? Now, here's another little truth bomb for you: you're oblivious. Not in a bad way, but not really in a good way either. It's just sort of...there.

"Anyway, Carlos was dropping insane non-verbal hints all night. Anytime you would come out of a dressing room, he would stare at you like you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. It was seriously adorable. He was like a puppy. Also, once you started holding onto him during the movie, he just had this manic grin. I'm ninety percent sure that he couldn't tell you what happened in the second half of the movie because he was so focused on you. I mean, I can't either, but it was so much better watching you two anyway.

"And there were a ton of other things. I actually made a list somewhere that I'll copy for you sometime. But the bell's about to ring, and you should get to class so you can space out and ponder your own relationship. So here is where I leave you. Sorry to dump this on you and run, but anatomy waits for no man. Or woman, for that matter. Fare thee well."

And with that, Jo wandered off. How she had managed to pour all of that out in ten minutes, Logan would never know. But she was right about one thing. It was time to space out and ponder.


	13. Chapter 13

Tuesday, October 17th

* * *

Logan smiled as Carlos worked through his math homework. He had made some major improvements ever since he had actually started paying attention in class. The last session, it had taken him almost 45 minutes to get through his homework. Today, he was poised to get through it in only 30. He did, however, have trouble retaining things from past lessons. As he was working, Logan was making flash cards of various formulas, definitions, and equations to quiz Carlos.

Logan had worried that it would be awkward around Carlos, but it wasn't. Or, it hadn't been yet, at least. There was still plenty of time for Carlos to bring up the clothes or their relationship or something.

"Done!" Carlos announced as he dropped his pencil on his work. "Those stupid quadratic equations almost got me again, but I 'foiled' them!" He started laughing absurdly hard at his own corny joke, which only elicited an eye roll from Logan.

"Yes, yes, you're very clever. Do you want me to go over them?" Logan asked, pulling Carlos' notebook towards him. Logan picked up Carlos' pencil and began combing through his work.

"Yeah, sure, whatever floats your boat. I'm going to get something to drink." He stood up and walked to the kitchen. From the corner of his eye, Logan watched his perfect bubble butt as he left. It was like a dirty obsession now. He just couldn't help but stare as Carlos left any room. Of course, that was nothing compared to Carlos' magnetic smile. Any time he flashed his teeth, Logan automatically felt giddy.

He looked down to find that he had absently written "butt", "smile", and "Carlos" in the notebook. After brief three second panic, Logan began erasing furiously. Carlos re-entered with a soda at this precise moment. "Aw, I didn't do THAT bad, did I?" he asked in a disappointed tone.

"N-No, no, I made a huge mistake," Logan answered quickly, not looking up. "You did fine. Actually, I think that will be it for today." He quickly closed Carlos' notebook and handed it over to him. "Was there anything else you wanted to know about?"

Carlos fidgeted uncomfortably, then looked at Logan, his eyes looking like that of an innocent puppy. Logan had a bad feeling about where this was going. "Yeah, actually, I did, but it-it's not a math question." Logan had a VERY bad feeling about where this was going.

Carlos began picking at his nails anxiously, his eyes bouncing back and forth between his fingers and Logan's face. "Logan, I know we haven't known each other that long, but-but I really like you, and I was wondering how you felt..." he finished quietly, his sentence trailing off. He kept his face down, but continued looking up at Logan, still strongly resembling a puppy.

Logan felt deeply uncomfortable. Honestly, he wanted nothing more than to be with Carlos but...

"I-I can't, Carlos, I-I just can't..." he admitted softly. "It's not you, I just can't try a relationship right now." They sat there in silence for a moment, both avoiding looking at each other.

Logan shoved his things into his backpack and stood up. "I should go," he said quietly, slipping his backpack on. He started walking out when Carlos grabbed his wrist and pulled him in. His arms snaked around Logan's sides and under his backpack, and his hands held Logan's back.

"Please don't leave, Logan. Please?" His eyes were watering and Logan could hear the desperation in his voice. Logan put his hands on Carlos' chest and gently pushed away, feeling Carlos' hands release him. "I can't," he said again. He made the mistake of looking into Carlos' eyes.

A couple of tears trailed their way down his tan cheeks, and his brown eyes were shimmering underneath his unshed tears. Maybe it was because of how muscular he was, or maybe it was normal sense of bravado, but Carlos had never seemed as small as he had when Logan left him that day.

* * *

When Logan arrived at home, all he wanted to do was curl up in bed and cry. What was waiting for him there was entirely different. His father was in a rage. As soon as he opened the door, the verbal confrontation began. "You! Where the hell did you get these clothes?" his father asked angrily, holding some of Logan's new wardrobe in his hands. "We don't take charity in this house! I thought I raised you better than that!"

It might have been the state of emotional turmoil he had been in, but the years of anger and resentment and pain came screaming out of Logan like a rocket. "Maybe you don't, but I do!" he shouted back. "Where do you think our food and your booze comes from? Welfare! I had to fill in the applications myself so that we wouldn't starve!"

"Don't you talk back to me!" his father thundered, his face red and contorted with rage.

"Don't you talk down to me!" Logan shot back. "Those clothes weren't charity, I bought them with my own money! I got a job!" Logan snatched the clothes out of his father's hands.

His father was caught off-guard, something that Logan had rarely seen. It would appear that this revelation had taken the wind out of his sails. "You have a...job?" he asked slowly.

"Yes," Logan snapped. "I needed to take care of myself, so I got a job as a tutor. It's not like there was anyone else who would help me," he said in a brazen tone. At this, his father looked stricken, and slightly wounded. Logan felt it was deserved. His father hadn't been a parent to Logan in years.


	14. Chapter 14

Wednesday, October 18th

* * *

_Logan was standing in front of a mirror, wearing a white shirt, black slacks, and a black bow tie. He slowly started gyrating, his hips moving round and round to an invisible beat. He slowly unbuttoned both of the cuffs, rolling them up slightly. He brought his hands up to his chest and slowly started running them down his body._

_His hands made their way down his muscular chest and toned abs and stopped at his thighs. His left hand cupped his groin, and he started grabbing it. His hips forced the bulge in his pants into his hand and he started squeezing himself roughly. He unconsciously bit his lower lip and let out a slight moan at the pressure. His right hand slowly traced back up his body and stopped at his nipple. He grabbed it and slowly started tweaking it, still groping himself. He moaned at the pleasure he was giving himself._

_His right hand went back down to his pants, and he slowly, tauntingly unbuttoned his slacks. He caught his eye in the mirror with an impish grin, and he licked his lips teasingly. He unzipped the pants and let go, the slacks falling to the ground. Now, nothing was between his manhood and the air but a thin pair of black spandex briefs. His thick cock was clearly defined in outline, and it was straining to get free of its tight prison._

_He palmed it for a couple seconds, squeezing it and playing with it. It grew a little harder, and it was clearly stretching the fabric outward. There was now a slight gap between his thick thigh and the flexible material. His hands went back up to his chest again, and for a second, it seems like he's going to tease again with the shirt, but he suddenly ripped it off and let it fall to the floor. He was now completely naked except for the briefs._

_Logan's nipples were hard, and his abs rippled with every breath he took. He didn't have a six pack per se, but there was definitely muscle there. He ran his hands up and down his body, biting his lip again as he tilted his head back slightly. He started grabbing himself again while tweaking his nipple with the other hand. The higher hand went back and forth from nipple to nipple, pinching and playing, while the hand groping himself alternated between rubbing and squeezing. He was actually being a little rough with himself, mixing a bit of pleasure with the pain. He let out a moan tinged with lust every time he squeezed his huge cock._

_He suddenly bent over, unzipping a black duffel bag behind him. The tight spandex was doing nothing to hide his ample ass, which was round and tight. He stood back up, with a pair of handcuffs. "I wonder whose these are," he said, clearly in mock confusion. "I hope I don't get in trouble for having these..." Suddenly, Carlos entered, dressed as a cop, in an almost skin-tight uniform. He grabbed Logan's thick forearm. "Those aren't yours," he growled in Logan's ear. "I'm going to have to teach you a lesson about things that don't belong to you."_

_The handcuffs clicked over Logan's wrists, locking his hands behind his back. He squirmed in Carlos' grasp. Carlos drew Logan's tight body close to him, so that every time Logan moved, his tight ass dragged across Carlos' groin. Carlos wrapped one of his arms across Logan's chest, while his other gloved hand traced slowly down Logan's stomach, until it reached his still semi-hard dick. He gave it a squeeze and a playful tug. "Here's the lesson, big boy: only play with things that are yours. Like you. You're mine, so now I'm going to play with you."_

_Carlos kissed Logan's jawline softly, still playing with Logan's thick cock. Logan was whimpering and writhing in pleasure, trapped in Carlos' muscular embrace. Suddenly, Carlos' thick tongue came out and licked all the way up Logan's cheek. Logan moaned in ecstasy, throwing his head back against Carlos' shoulder. His dick was now totally erect, and straining against the fabric so strongly that it looked like it might rip through. "Let's free your little friend, shall we?" Carlos whispered in Logan's ear._

_Carlos pulled off the tight briefs, and Logan's monster cock popped out. It was around seven inches, and it was thick too. It was standing straight up in the air, and Logan whimpered again, waiting for Carlos to play with it since his hands were still cuffed behind his back. Carlos grabbed the base of Logan's dick, and slowly started pumping up and down. Logan gave a little moan, trying to move his hips further into Carlos' hand. All of Logan's former confidence was gone, and he was now standing meekly in Carlos' grasp, and for all intents and purposes, he was just Carlos' new toy._

_Carlos suddenly released Logan's thick cock and spun him around. "Mmm, I think it's about time you pleasured me. I want a lapdance, but I still want a way to control you..." he said, trailing off. He dipped down into Logan's bag, and came up with a collar and a little leash. "This is perfect. You'll be like my little pet." He fastened the collar and leash around Logan's neck. Then he produced a key from his pocket and unlocked the handcuffs. The cuffs clattered to the floor, and Carlos dropped the key there too. He sat down in a nearby chair. "All right, pretty boy," he said in a commandeering tone, "get up here and turn me on."_

_Logan, completely naked and still popping an impressive boner, climbed up onto Carlos' lap and started grinding into Carlos' crotch. His hips thrusted back and forth, and his round, firm ass ground into Carlos' huge erection. Logan's cock stood straight up, the head leaking pre-cum. Carlos tugged on Logan's leash, and Logan was forced up against Carlos' warm, muscular body. Carlos laid wet, sloppy kisses against Logan's neck, occasionally biting Logan's skin and leaving hickeys abound._

Logan woke up suddenly, gasping for air. His bedroom felt like a sauna, there was so much heat and humidity present. He opened both of his bedroom windows, one facing the street and one on the side of the house. He felt a nice cross-breeze coming through, quickly relieving him of the sweat lodge-like conditions in his bedroom. This was getting ridiculous. The fact that his own body was generating that much heat was positively absurd. He grabbed his iPod from his dresser and looked at the time. The display read "5:54", six minutes before his alarm was due to go off. He deactivated with a sigh. No point in going back to bed now.

He pulled on some clothes and grabbed a power bar from his private food cache. He slipped it into his backpack, which he had decided to keep in his room. His father knew that he was making money, so why not let him assume that Logan had bought the school materials for himself? There was certainly no reason to let him know that they had been a gift from a secret benefactor.

Which, now that he thought about, was obviously Carlos. Who else could have it been? Based on the exercise clothes, Carlos enjoyed giving his friends/love interests random gifts. And Carlos seemed fairly intent on finding ways to butter Logan up into going out with him. It was sweet, but ultimately useless. Logan wondered if he had somehow set up the math tutoring so that they could get closer.

He pulled open the door to find his father making breakfast. Which was really a surprise. It was just after 6. His father had never been up this early, unless he had just not gone to sleep the last night. But here was his father, clearly sober, making bacon. At the sound of Logan's door opening, he looked at him from over his shoulder. "Um, hey," he said quietly.

"...Hi," Logan responded cautiously. His father kept his eyes on Logan for a second, then turned back toward the stove. Logan blinked, apparently incapable of any other action. For a second, he considered asking his father how he was doing or some other form of small talk, but remembering their blow-out last night, decided against it. Best not to push his luck..

As he opened the front door to leave, his father called out "Bye."

"Bye..." Logan responded in kind. As he closed the door, he realized that they had just taken part in their first civil conversation in years.

* * *

"Where's Stephanie?" Logan asked as he approached the lunch table.

"Making up a test or something, who knows," Camille snapped. "MY question is what the HELL did you do to Carlos?" she asked waspishly, pointing behind Logan. Logan turned around and saw what she was pointing at. Carlos was sitting at a table with Kendall and James, head buried in his arms. Kendall was rubbing his back soothingly and speaking softly to him while James was staring daggers at Logan. Logan felt like he could actually see murder in his eyes. "What did you DO to him?" Camille hissed.

"He, uh, he asked me out, and I...turned him down," Logan admitted softly. He turned back to face Camille, and was a little alarmed to see the violent shade of red her face had turned. The look of unholy fury in her eyes was truly terrifying. Even Jo looked slightly intimidated.

"YOU DID  _WHAT?_ " she asked, in a small dangerous whisper. Logan swore he saw a slight puff of steam come out of her nostrils. He got a little defensive at this point.

"Look, not that it's really any of your business, but I just don't want to date right now! Carlos is a really sweet guy, and if circumstances were different-"

"'Circumstances' my ass!" Camille cried, startling a few people behind her. "This is about you being scared to try something new!"

"Yes!" Logan shot back. "Yes, it is! And don't even pretend that you know why because you don't! I have several issues I need to work out before I even  _consider_  dragging someone else into the picture!"

"Fine," Camille said, standing up. "You go work out your  _issues_ , and when you're ready to try something real, let me know. Or better yet, let that boy whose heart you just broke know." She grabbed her backpack and left in a huff, chin up and nose in the air.

"Camille doesn't like it when people don't reach their full potential," Jo said quietly, answering Logan's unasked question. "She also doesn't like it when people don't live life fully. I think that's just a general thespian thing. But, on the other hand, you made some real progress by standing up for yourself."

Logan turned to her. "What do you mean by growth?" he asked quizzically.

"Well, before this, you probably would have just sat there and dished out whatever Camille threw at you. Instead, you defended yourself, and quite well, actually. Something changed in you, and I think it's for the better. You're finally starting to express your feelings in your own way. It's exciting to see. And I wouldn't worry too much about Camille. She and Stephanie will talk it out, and Stephanie has a way of mollifying her. She'll come around."

Logan sighed. "I hope so. I don't really have a lot of friends, so I can't really afford to lose any."

Jo smiled serenely. "I'll still be your friend."

Logan gave her an odd look. "You've got a real 'Luna Lovegood' thing going on here, you know?" Jo just gave him cute smile.


	15. Chapter 15

Thursday, October 19th

* * *

Logan spotted Carlos hurrying towards their shared math class. He heaved a great breath as Carlos ducked his head down to avoid Logan's gaze. It had been like this ever since Logan had turned down Carlos' invitation to go out. "Carlos, wait," he called, stopping the boy in his tracks. Carlos froze for a second and then looked up at Logan with those same wounded puppy eyes that he had displayed when Logan initially turned him down. Logan hoped that this expression wasn't common with Carlos; it just about killed him every time he saw it.

"Carlos," he said gently, "we can't just avoid each other like this. We need to straighten this out. Either we agree to put this behind us, or you find another tutor. I can't tutor you if you won't even look at me."

Carlos slumped his shoulders and sighed. "Yeah, all right," he said quietly. "Sorry I've been avoiding you, it just, um, hurts to look at you.." he admitted. As he said it, he still avoided eye contact, choosing instead to stare at Logan's left shoulder.

Logan rubbed the back off his head sheepishly, hoping that none of his classmates were listening to their conversation. "Yeah, that couldn't have been easy. I'm sorry about the way I handled it too. That was kind of insensitive." Carlos finally made eye contact with Logan again, and he actually looked slightly mollified. For once, Logan didn't feel like flinging himself off of a bridge. "If circumstances were different, I'd be with you in a heartbeat," he said softly. "I just-I just can't right now," he finished softly.

"I get it," Carlos replied. "I know you're-busy and stuff, and I don't blame you or anything, I just-I'm sorry too."

"So we're okay then?" Logan asked. Carlos gave a slight smile and nodded. Their eyes connected for a moment, then Carlos broke off and went inside. Logan somehow knew that this wasn't the end of it.

* * *

"As Logan walked out of his English class, Stephanie walked up to him, escorting a slightly imperious Camille. "Camille has something that she would like to say to you," Stephanie announced, sounding for all the world like pre-school teacher. When Camille stayed silent, she gave her elbow a small whack.

Camille exhaled forcibly, and then relented. "I'm sorry for getting to far into your affairs without knowing all o the facts and/or actually being you. I'm also sorry for any names I may have called you. Or thought at you." She said all of this with a look on her face that said that she had just tasted something very bitter. Logan thought for a second that it might have been her own smug self-confidence, then mentally smacked himself for thinking something so mean. Apparently, Camille wasn't the only one here at fault.

"I'm sorry too," he replied. "I know you were just thinking in my best interests. And I think we both said and, uh, thought things that we didn't mean."

With Logan's admission, Camille's wall of pride relented, and he finally saw the Camille he had grown to trust. "I think we both got a little carried away yesterday. I'll tell you what: Stephanie have sleepovers about once a month, and Jo has started coming to them too. We call them our 'Ladies' Sleepover', but I think we could amend that to be a 'Ladies' (And Logan) Sleepover'. You in?" she asked.

Logan was hesitant to answer. "I don't know. I haven't been to a sleepover since I was seven. And are you sure your parents won't mind me being there?" he inquired cautiously.

Camille dismissed his query with a roll of her eyes and a wave of her hands. "My parents used to be hippies, they'll be fine. I still don't understand how we're related...anyway, it's next weekend, so feel free to mull it over." And with that, she turned and walked down the hall to the lucnhroom. Stephanie rolled her eyes, assumed her normal expression of disinterest, and then followed her.

Logan took a second to process. Could he handle a sleepover?

* * *

Wednesday, October 25th

* * *

"What do you mean you haven't ASKED yet?" Camille screeched. Stephanie rubbed her temple while Jo looked at Camille with an expression of mild interest. Logan had just admitted to Camille that he still hadn't asked his father's permission to attend her Ladies' (And Logan) Sleepover.

To be fair, even though it was almost a week later, Logan just wasn't sure of how his father would react. Although he had been much more open since he had announced that he had already managed to secure a job as a chef at the chain restaurant that he had applied to. Apparently, even though his résumé was fairly dated, it was still fairly impressive. And the restaurant didn't exactly know about his tendency to drink. He had cut back severely, but he still had 2-3 drinks per night.

"I'm just...not sure what his reaction will be," Logan admitted. "I've never really done anything like this before." Camille gave him her 'I command you to do as I say' glare.

"Logan, I swear to God, you can't be afraid of everything. Occasionally, you'll have to try new things, otherwise you'll never get anywhere in life. Now, I don't want to pressure you, but if you don't ask him tonight, I will shove my entire backpack SO FAR UP YOUR ASS THAT YOU'LL NEED MORE THAN YOUR HAND TO GET IT BACK OUT AGAIN, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" Logan nodded, more than a little frightened.

* * *

Logan entered the house to find his father in the kitchenette, cooking something that smelled meaty. "Uh, hey," he called out cautiously. His father started, then turned around.

"Logan, I, uh, I didn't hear you come in. You startled me..." he looked a little guilty, though Logan couldn't figure out why. "I'm making some chicken of you want some." He looked a little unsure of himself, like he was out of practice with parenting. Actually, he WAS out of practice with parenting. This was the first time in a long time that he had prepared some food for Logan.

"Um, okay," Logan agreed. It was actually a great way to ask his permission for Camille's sleepover. He sat at the small bar that separated the kitchenette and the living room, dropping his backpack down next to him.

His father pulled up a stool and sat on the other side. "So, um, how was school?" he asked, looking slightly uncomfortable.

"It was...all right," Logan replied awkwardly. "Actually I wanted to ask you something. Um, would it be all right if I slept over at a friend's house?"

His father took a bite of his chicken, chewing slowly. "I dunno...who's the friend?"

Logan stared down t his plate, pushing his food around with his fork. He hadn't actually eaten anything yet. "Um, it's my friend Camille," he said uneasily. He somehow had a bad feeling about how his dad would react. "She invited a couple of other girls we hang out with, and we'd just be watching movies and talking all night."

His father made a weird face. "All girls?" he asked incredulously. "I don't think so. That sounds a little...inappropriate. I'm sure this girl's parents would agree."

Oh. Right. His father didn't know.

"Dad, I always wanted to tell you this, but I wasn't sure what would happen if I did while you were...still upset." He carefully tiptoed around the taboo subject of his dad's drunkenness. No sense in opening old wounds now. "I've known this for while now, but I didn't want to act on it, because I didn't want anything to distract me from my dream of going to med school. But something happened to me today that caused me to change my mind. Dad, I'm gay."

He held his breath, watching his dad's face. His father's brow furrowed in thought for a second, and then he gave him a knowing look. His lips made the shape of a smile, but somehow, it wasn't a smile. "That's all right Logan, everyone goes through this phase. Don't worry, you'll be interested in girls in no time."

Logan let out his breath explosively, his mind reeling. What the hell just happened? Of all the possible responses his father could have given, Logan would have never expected this. "No, Dad, it's not a phase. I'm actually gay. I've known this for the last 5 years. I'm actually gay."

"Logan, this phase is a common thing," he said in a knowing tone. "It's fine! It'll pass, I promise."

Logan scoffed. "Dad, are you in denial? Because I'm serious."

"So am I, Logan, and now I'm getting frustrated. No one's actually gay. They just want attention. Now, I understand that I've neglected you in the past, but if you want more attention, this is a very poor way of trying to find it."

Logan snapped.

"Damn it, Dad, what's wrong with you! It's not a phase! I spent years grappling with this, trying to figure out what was wrong with me. It was a simple conclusion: I'm gay. That's all there is to it. I'm gay. I don't care what you say, I'm living my life my way. It's too late for you to try and be a parent."

And with that, Logan picked up his backpack and walked out.

* * *

Thursday, October 26th

* * *

Logan started as he dozed off again. 'I gotta find somewhere better to sleep' Logan thought to himself. He had gone to the local public library, which was thankfully open 24 hours a day. He went in, picked out 'Moby Dick' and fell asleep reading it in a secluded little alcove. He had gotten about 6 hours of sleep, but it was sitting up in a chair, so it hadn't been very comfortable.

He frowned, thinking about the altercation that had taken place last night with his father. He didn't know why he had just exploded and left like he did, he just couldn't understand why his dad had reacted in such an intolerant way.

'Oh well,' he thought. None of that mattered right now. He had to think about what he was going to do now. He had about $100, no clothing, and really, nowhere to stay, as the library would surely catch on to him pretty soon. That left him with three logical options: 1) go back home, 2) start staying with a friend, or 3) start staying at the homeless shelter.

He wasn't sure how Option 1 would go. He could suck it up and go back in the closet around his father, but it'd still be uncomfortable to dance around that fight they had . He couldn't do 2 without Mr. Garcia arresting his father for negligence, and that wouldn't be fair, now that his father had finally sobered and was finally in on a job. And Logan wasn't the kind of guy who could hurt people for their beliefs, no matter how incorrect and stupid they were. There was also Option 3, but that probably wouldn't work so well. He was skittish as it was, and God only knows how he would so in that kind of environment.

He sighed as the bell rang, signaling the end of class. Maybe he could hit up the library one more night, and then he could go to Camille's sleepover after picking up a couple of things for himself. Then he'd have a couple more days to go over his options.

"Logan!" Speaking of Camille, it would appear that she had discovered him. "Logan, did you talk to your dad? And are you wearing the same clothes from yesterday? she asked curiously.

Logan sighed. "Yeah, I am. My dad and I had a bit of a blow-out last night, so I stayed-somewhere else," he said, quickly trying to cover up. "But I will be there for your sleepover. I'll have to run home and grab some stuff first..."

"Um, okay, cool," Camille said softly. "Hey, is-is everything all right between you and your dad?"

Logan nodded tiredly. "Yeah, we fight pretty often. It think this is one of the few times I've come out for the better. Just...don't tell anyone all right?" he added worriedly.

"No, of course not," Camille said, rubbing his arm reassuringly. "And hey, if you need somewhere to stay, I'm sure my parents will put you up while you work things out," she said softly.

"Um...thanks," he said awkwardly. "That, uh...that actually means a lot to me." She gave him a gentle smile as she walked away.

* * *

As he walked outside for the end of the day, he heard someone call his name. He stopped, almost dropping the books he was carrying. This was new. How did his father know he'd be here? Logan whipped around and saw him walking towards him. What was happening..?

As his father reached him, he wrapped Logan in a tight hug. "Oh God, Logan, I was so worried last night, I was out all night looking. Where on earth were you?"

Logan swallowed. His dad had been searching for him? "I, uh, slept in the library. I figured it would be safest."

His father sighed a visible sigh of relief. "Thank God you've got that huge brain. I was terrified that you were in some alley or something."

He pulled Logan out of earshot from the other students and told him "I don't want that to happen ever again. I'll cut you a deal. I know that you were probably hurt by what I said, so we'll we try this: why don't we just avoid that topic until we're both ready to talk it out? Is that okay?"

Logan looked into his father's eyes and wasn't sure what he saw there. It was a complicated mix of fear and concern, but he wasn't sure the origin of each emotion. But, he could see that his father was at least trying to make it up. He sighed, and said "Sure, dad. Let's go home."

Relief flooded through his father's features. "All right, Logan." Logan followed his father to the bus stop, unsure what to make of this latest development.


	16. Chapter 16

Friday, October 20th

* * *

Logan sat in Camille's passenger seat anxiously. Once she had dragged out of Logan that he and his father were on speaking terms again, Camille had forced him into her car and announced that if he couldn't talk his father into letting him attending, then she would do it for him, goddammit. If his father's issue was with they're only being girls there, she decided that she would have to invite some boys there. So she had marched right up to Carlos' table at lunch (against Logan's STRONG protests) and invited all three boys, including James and Kendall, to her sleepover. All three had accepted, although Carlos did it with a couple of shy glances toward Logan and noticeable trepidation.

So, now they were driving to Logan's house, Camille's GPS pinging directions every so often (she still refused to reveal how she had gotten his address). Every so often she would reach over and pat his knee comfortingly, all the while describing what was going to occur at the sleepover. It would apparently involve board games, movies, and gossiping well into the night. She had re-assured him that she had a spare sleeping bag for him ready and waiting at her house.

He started breathing quickly as Camille pulled up in front of his house. She got out and started dragging Logan towards his house. "Oh, calm down, I promise I'll behave in front of your father. Now let me in like a gentleman," she chided, giving him a gentle push toward the door. He took a deep breath to steady his nerves, then pushed open the door.

His father was sitting on the couch, watching TV. It would appear that he had just done some laundry, as he was folding some socks, and had a stack of other clothes sitting on the couch next to him. "Logan, you're home! And...not alone. Who's this?" he asked cheerily.

"I-uh-this is...Camille?" Logan said unsteadily. He was always caught off-guard around his father now.

"Are you asking me or telling me?" his father said with a slight smile. Camille snorted behind him, and Logan shot a glare at her. "Nice to meet you, Camille," his father said politely. "I'd shake your hand, but I'm a little swamped under clothes. Now, I assume that this isn't a social visit, so lets get down to brass tacks. What's up?"

Camille smiled shrewdly, as if she already had his father under her thumb. Actually, knowing Camille, she somehow did. "Well, I can see you're a busy man, so we won't waste your time," she said in a pleasant, business-like tone. "As you already know, I'm hosting a sleepover tonight." She raised her hand to silence Logan's father, who had opened his mouth in protest. He settled back down, an amused look on his face. "I realize that you had qualms to Logan staying with a bunch of girls, so I altered the plans. I invited a few boys to some and keep us company as well. It'll stay tame, I promise. My parents enjoy their peace and quiet. So, what is your decision in regards to slogans attendance?"

Logan looked at her anxiously. He hoped his father wouldn't overreact to this. He was pleasantly surprised by his father's response. Mr. Mitchell chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's hard to argue with a proposal like that," he said, still laughing lightly. "All right, Logan, you can go. Could you give him a ride back home? We're currently without transportation."

Camille nodded. "Of course. Logan's getting driven home whether he likes it or not."

Mr. Mitchell laughed. "I like this one, Logan. Hang on to her." At this point, even Logan cracked a smile.

* * *

Logan's head snapped up as he heard the doorbell ring at about 4:30. He looked back at the dining room table. He had a couple bowls of chips laid out, as well as Clue, Life, and a fascinating game called Munchkin. He hoped it would be okay. Camille had commanded him to set up while she did some sort of beauty routine in preparation for the event. Evidently she wouldn't be down for some time. He walked over to the door, took a deep breath, smiled, then swung it open, revealing Kendall and James.

Kendall immediately stuck out his hand and grasped Logan's, shaking it. "Hi," he said in a bright voice, "I don't know if you remember me. My name is Kendall Knight. We used to play together when we were younger."

Behind him, James rolled his eyes. "Calm down, Kendall, you're not running for re-election," he said, sauntering in. Logan stood aside, bowled over by James' overwhelming personality and attitude.

"It never hurts to be polite. Especially to a constituent," Kendall called after him, giving Logan a wink and a smile. He'd make an EXCELLENT politician. "You'll have to excuse him. He got in a lover's quarrel while I was driving him over. You know the dramatic types. May I come in?"

Logan smiled and stepped back further. "Yeah, of course. I've got some stuff set up in the dining room," he said, pointing just around the corner to where his flimsy party preparations lay.

James was eyeing the chips with poorly masked disdain. "Do you have any snacks that, um, aren't carbohydrate based?" he asked, flicking his fingers in a way that suggested his fingers were greasy just by looking at the offending snacks.

Logan fidgeted uncomfortably in the doorway. "Um, there were some fresh berries in the fridge. Would those work..?"

"Yeah, I suppose," James sighed. Kendall smacked his arm, glaring at him. James sighed and said "Yes, Logan. That would be simply divine," eliciting another smack. Logan smiled as he fetched the berries, listening to Kendal and James bicker.

As Logan set the berries down on the table, Kendall cleared his throat, sounding very official. "All right, I believe I'll get the ball rolling. For our first game of the evening, I think we'll play Munchkin. My family has this game, and its great. Really good for parties."

Logan blushed, slightly embarrassed. "Um, I've never played it before..."

James piped in as well. "Yeah, genius, neither have I. And if its too complicated, I'll lose interest pretty fast."

Kendall rolled his eyes. "I'll give you a basic run-down, he said, talking to James as a teacher would to a belligerent child. "It's basically a really stupid parody of role-playing games. We'll get more specific later on. The object of the game is to be the first to get to a specific level. For your first time we'll go with ten. First you draw seven cards. Then we'll each roll the die. Whoever gets the highest number goes first, and we'll just go left from there."

* * *

At about 7:30, the pajama-clad party-goers were finishing off their pizza and watching The Godfather. Logan was sitting on the couch immediately facing the TV, with Camille on his right having her legs draped over his, and Stephanie on his other side, making snide comments into his ear. Kendall and Carlos were sitting in front of the couch, Kendall occasionally bending over to explain something to Carlos. Interestingly, Jo and James had hit it off, and were off to one side, occasionally making conversation. Logan had a sneaking suspicion that Jo had an ulterior motive for this regarding her psychoanalysis.

About halfway through the movie, however, James had started to get fidgety. Three-quarters through, and he was absurdly antsy. When the movie ended, he was downright hyperactive.

"About time," he said, "I was beginning to get REALLY bored. It's sleepover game time." Carlos groaned and Kendall rolled his eyes. "It's time for Truth Or Dare: James Edition. Now allow me to explain. The only rule to 'Truth Or Dare: James Edition' is no butt stuff. Other than that, anything is on the table." Camille and Stephanie simultaneously said "Hell no," while Kendall just sat there with a look of horror on his face.

James pouted. "You guys are no fun."

Camille tapped her chin. "Actually, Truth Or Dare isn't a bad idea. We'll just leave it within the bounds of civility. Raise your hand if you're in." Camille raised her hand, followed quickly by James, Carlos, and Stephanie. Jo raised her hand next, still with a look of faint interest. Kendall raised his hand anxiously, followed by Logan, who was extremely anxious.

"Oh good, we're all in," Camille said excitedly. "Okay James, since it was your idea, you get to go first."

James rubbed his hands together gleefully. "Okay Camille, since its your party, I'll ask you first." Camille grinned, as if to accept the challenge. "Truth...or dare?" James asked slowly, pausing for dramatic effect.

Camille's grin only widened. "Dare, of course."

James sat back, looking around thoughtfully. Then, all of a sudden, he donned a wicked smile. "Okay, I dare you to, while blindfolded, feel the butt of all the guys and try to guess who is who." Both Camille and Stephanie cackled, while all the boys blushed.

"Oh, I'm so in. Steph, you're going to have to help me out here.," Camille said excitedly. Stephanie handed Camille her hairband, then silently arranged the boys from left to right, starting with James, Carlos, Kendall, and ending with Logan. Stephanie then guided Camille behind the line-up of boys and guided her hands to James' butt. She giggled then said "Ooooh, high and tight, I'm going to have to guess James?"

James laughed and said "You got me." Camille clapped her hands excitedly. Stephanie moved Camille over a step to the left and guided her hands to Carlos' butt next. Camille gave it a couple of squeezes, which had Carlos fidgeting and trying not to giggle. She paused and said "It's pretty firm and...voluptuous. Carlos?"

"Yeah, that was me," he admitted with a smile. The process repeated with Kendall ("Wow, I actually can't feel anything. Are these inverted? It has to be Kendall.") and Logan ("Oooh, Logan, you're working with more than I thought. God job, sweetie!"). Once the blindfold had been removed and everyone had taken their seats, Camille gave Logan a sadistic look. "All right, Logan. Truth or dare?"

Logan blushed and immediately replied "Truth."

"Don't think that you're safe by choosing truth," she warned. "For example, how many times a week do you masturbate?" The rest of the group let out a chorus of "ooohs" while Logan blushed furiously.

"Ugh, come on!" he protested. Camille giggled and shook her head. "Oh, fine. But only because this game is give and take. "Um, I'd say...three or four times a week?"

Camille scoffed. "Ugh, that's it? GOD, you're so plain. You better make up for it with your turn."

Logan smiled. "I intend to. Uh, Kendall, truth or dare?"

Kendall jumped slightly at the mention of his name. "Um, dare?" he said, sounding slightly unsure of himself. His foot started jittering as Logan bit his lip, trying to come up with something.

"All right," Logan said after a short while of deliberating. "We're going to go with a classic. Lose one article of clothing. AND socks don't count," he added on as Kendall started to reach for his feet. Kendall sighed and then slowly pulled of his shirt. He was surprisingly muscular, despite his lean frame. And Logan wasn't the only that noticed.

"Damn, boy, what have you been doing?" Stephanie asked, staring at his flat stomach.

"I, uh, play league water polo. You have to be in really good shape..." he said, sounding embarrassed. Logan had to admit, Kendall's body was a bit of a turn-on. He could just imagine feeling Kendall's taut muscles rippling underneath his fingertips...

"Hmmm, let's see..." Kendall mused, snapping Logan out of his daydream. "We haven't heard anything from Jo yet, so truth or dare?"

Jo smiled. "Oh, good, I was hoping we would get to me soon. Truth."

Kendall gave an almost guilty smile. "All right, this is going to sound weird, but...have you ever thought of Stephanie in a sexual way?"

Jo snorted. "Of course. Who hasn't?" The rest of the group laughed hysterically, while Stephanie nodded in approval. "I didn't think it was THAT funny," Jo said, a little taken aback. "All right, if it's my turn, then I'll go with Carlos. Truth or dare?"

Carlos fidgeted a little bit, then said "Truth." Jo nodded approvingly.

"Good, I had one in mind, but I think I already know the answer, so I'll change it up. Who in this room would you most like to go down on, excluding people you've confessed your love to." At the last part, both Carlos and Logan blushed while the other four players snorted.

"Um, if I'm being honest, then it'd probably be...Kendall, he admitted. Kendall gave a quirky smile, as if he were oddly flattered with Carlos' response.

"WHAT?!" James exclaimed. "You'd pick that nerdy hipster over me? Come on, I'm gorgeous! Why wouldn't you pick me?"

Carlos blushed a furious red. "Well, it's like...the question asked who would I pleasure, and I'd rather have you, um...pleasure me then me pleasure you. Especially because you get, um, 'it' all the time, and Kendall, um, I don't think does..." he finished lamely. Kendall rolled his eyes, and James sat back with a "hmmph," although he did look mollified.

The game continued on for a while, getting more and more radical as it went on. Stephanie admitted that she once broke up with a guy because he broke his nose and she thought it looked bad afterwards, and Camille, after being asked to guessed, said she had always figured Carlos had the biggest package of the four boys (and Logan knew he had to at least be in the running). Kendall was dared to find an interesting way to melt two cubes of ice using only Stephanie (they naturally went in between her breasts while Kendall blushed furiously), and Carlos was blindfolded and had each girl kiss him while he figured out who it was. Jo had to give Logan a hickey, and then someone asked James how far he'd go for $1,000 (which was naturally all the way, seeing as how he'd already gone all the way for only attention).

Then came Camille's turn to ask someone for a truth or dare. She asked Logan, and he, feeling brave, chose dare. Camille gave him that knowing smile that he had begun to fear so much and dared him to kiss Kendall. Kendall and Logan both blushed and Carlos looked a little crest-fallen, but not heart-broken, which was a minor relief to Logan. He would have been much more uncomfortable if he though it would really hurt Carlos.

So Logan went and sat in front of Kendall, and they slowly inched their way toward each other, until Kendall placed his hand right under Logan's ear, and gently guided their lips together. He kissed Logan softly, and it was actually really sweet. Logan had no idea what he was doing, but it seemed to go well. Their lips kept moving gently caressing each other, and at the very end, Kendall's tongue slipped in and played with Logan's before they broke off. The room was silent, until Stephanie finally broke it with a "Daaamn..." They both separated abashedly, although Kendall kept giving Logan shy smiles throughout the night, which Logan reciprocated. He had to admit, if he had to share his first kiss with somebody besides Carlos, he was glad it was someone as nice and cute as Kendall.

The game eventually settled down after culminating with James giving a striptease (he stripped down to his very tight, white briefs and then bared his ass, refusing to put it away until Carlos gave it a smack. Camille was right about it; it was high and tight, and Logan thought it was actually really hot). They continued talking until the inevitable topic of conversation for every high school senior came up. Kendall asked "Where do you guys want go to college?"

James spoke up immediately. "The American Musical and Dramatic Academy in L.A. I wanna be on T.V. What about you?"

Kendall smiled dreamily. "Stanford. I wanna double major in Political Science with a concentration on International Relations and Economics with a concentration in International Trade. I wanna be an ambassador to major country one day." He looked to Stephanie and Camille. "What about you two? Is the Theater Department's dynamic duo breaking up?"

"Not exactly," Stephanie said. "We both applied to NYU, but for different areas. I applied to the Tisch Film School, because as much as I love acting, I'm not sure I could be successful in it. But I do have a knack for directing, so I sent in a video of that short scene from Little Women I directed at last year's Short Scene Competition at the community center, and we'll just have to wait and see. I mean, I did mention that I adapted it from the book, wrote it, blocked it, and then won the competition, so..." she said, with a flip of her hair.

Camille rolled her eyes, and then chimed in. "I applied to Tisch for costume design, and I've got a pretty bangin' portfolio, so I think I've got a pretty good shot. What about you Jo, I actually don't know what you're majoring in..."

"Actually, I applied to Harvard and Stanford, and then Cambridge and Oxford in England for psychology. I've got a 4.7, and a couple of recommendations from local psychologists, so I think I'll get into a good school." She said this all very non-chalantly, as if it was the sort of thing every high schooler said. Everyone else, meanwhile, had similar open-mouthed faces of shock and awe.

"Jesus, girl, do you ever sleep?" Stephanie asked, incredulously. Jo just shrugged, and went back to braiding her hair.

Logan spoke up next. "Well, mine's not as impressive as that, but I want to go to Johns Hopkins for pre-med. They've got one of the best programs in the nation." He looked at Carlos. "What about you?"

Carlos looked at him guiltily, blushing. "I, uh, applied to University of Maryland, Baltimore County, cuz I wanna play hockey there..."

Kendall and James nodded like it made sense, but Logan turned to him in surprise. "Carlos, that's less then half an hour away from Johns Hopkins."

"Well, that's not my fault!" he said defensively. "I applied there before I even met you! Like, they even scouted me and offered me a scholarship!"

James snorted. "I don't think he was taking issue with it so much as noting it, Carlos."

Carlos let out an embarrassed "Oh," eliciting laughter from the rest of the party.


	17. Chapter 17

Friday, November 3rd

* * *

Logan walked toward on at the lunch table, which currently held only Camille. Jo had departed for England to tour her preferred schools, and Stephanie was making up a test, because she apparently had a bad habit of disappearing from her classes whenever a test had been scheduled. Logan was discovering this to be a regular occurrence.

Since the sleepover last Friday night, the boys had taken up the habit of joining them for lunch. But, today, each one of them was off to their various extracurricular events (Carlos at a hockey game, Kendall to a model UN meeting, and James to a choral festival). This left only Logan ad Camille, and Logan already knew what the main topic was.

“Let’s talk about your feelings,” Camille announced as soon as he sat down. Logan groaned and began to stand back up. “Sit DOWN,” Camille commanded, pointing to the bench beneath him.

Logan plumped back into his seat and stared at her. “Okay,” he said in a falsely chipper voice. “I’m thinking of switching to a more protein-based diet, because I read that-“

Camille shushed him with an impatient wave of her hand. “Not that bull crap, your real feelings.” Logan just stared at her blankly, feigning ignorance. “Fine,” she said, after letting out a huff, “I’ll get it started. I’ve seen you looking at Kendall in a curious fashion. Care to say what that’s about?”

It was true. Ever since the sleepover, Logan had been feeling strangely toward Kendall. It wasn’t just the kiss, either. Well, it was partly the kiss. All right, it was a lot the kiss. It had been Logan’s first kiss, and it was…indescribable. Kendall had been tender, but he hadn’t really held back that much either. The fact that he was shirtless really didn’t help, either. Kendall had a…very nice body. He didn’t know whose he preferred, Kendall’s or Carlos’. It was like apples and oranges. Carlos had a tight, ripped body, while Kendall’s was lithe and fit. He found both to be arousing. Actually, Kendall had been invading his night dreams as well, recently. There was lots of tender, passionate kissing involved. Logan wouldn’t have minded kissing Kendall again.

“IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII…don’t know…” Logan admitted. “I mean, that was my first kiss last Friday, so I would assume that I’d be drawn to him, right?”

Camille stifled a grin. “That was your first kiss? I hooked you up with a tall, shirtless blonde for your first kiss? I seriously deserve some sort of ‘Hag Of The Year’ award for this. Like, for real though.”

This time Logan shushed her with a wave. “Quit tooting your own horn, I have an actual problem. I think I have feelings for both of them. And I don’t know if I can date either of them.”

Camille slumped over the table dramatically. “Oh my GOOOOOOOOOOD, what is your major malfunction with dating and being happy?” she moaned.

Logan exhaled slowly, preparing for a major admission. “All right, last week when I said my dad and I had a falling out, it was because I…came out to him, and he wasn’t thrilled.”

Camille perked up a concerned expression on her face. “You’re all right, though, right?”

Logan nodded, perhaps overcompensating a tad. “Yeah, yeah, we’re fine. Well, sort of fine. We agreed to just, um, let it sit and not talk about it anymore, and that’s what’s working for us right now.”

Camille pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Well, see, that’s a real problem. Oh, congratulations, by the way. Big deal, major step, bravery, blah blah blah.” She said all this as if it were something one heard all the time. Logan actually appreciated how much of a non-issue it was with Camille. It was refreshing.

“Here’s what I think,” she said, coming back from her brief contemplation. “I think you should just go for it. If your dad isn’t okay with it, that’s his tough shit. You should live your life for you. If you need a place to stay, then you come live with me. Not only will my parents not mind, I honestly don’t think they’d notice. I think you should do what makes you happy.”

Logan bit his lip anxiously. “I just-I just don’t know…how,” he admitted softly.

Camille sighed impatiently. For Pete’s sake, Logan, there’s no guide to life. Everyone is different, you just need to do what feels right.” Logan smiled in spite of himself. Camille always made the most sense once she had decided that she was done with a topic.

* * *

James smiled as he swung open the door to his opulent mansion and warm afternoon sunlight flooded into the parlor. "Oh, good, you DID show up, I was beginning to think that you had chickened out."

Kendall stiffened his back and breezed past James, who shut the door behind him. "I never back down from a challenge, and you know that damn well."

James sauntered past him toward one of the kitchens. "Ooh, there's no need to be so feisty. We're all friends here. I'm just saying that I wouldn't be surprised if you were nervous."

Kendall heaved a deep breath. "Well, I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't trepidatious from the anticipation of...this, but I managed to convince myself that it was just research." James rolled his eyes as they finally arrived at the large "public" kitchen.

The Diamond home had a “public” kitchen for guests to congregate, a kitchen used by the Diamond’s chefs to cook meals and cater events held at the home, as well as a couple of upstairs kitchenettes for the inhabitants of the house. Mrs. Diamond was a make-up mogul, and Mr. Diamond was the CEO of a company that bought, dismantled, and sold other companies. With both their jobs, and their strong investments, the Diamond family was doing VERY well for themselves.

"Cupcake, sex isn't research. It's experimentation,” James said in a matter-of-fact tone.

Kendall eyed him shrewdly. "You make it sound so...scientific. It's odd coming from your mouth. And don’t call me cupcake. I’m not one of your boy-toys."

James smiled sweetly as he pulled a bottle of water of the refrigerator. "Not yet, anyway. And besides, it is science. It's a mixture of anatomy and chemistry. And if you're fun like me, there's the occasional marine biology thrown into the mix."

This time it was Kendall's turn to roll his eyes. "You're an odd bird, you know that?"

James grinned at him. "Well, birds of a feather flock together. Or, in our case, sick fucks of a feather flock together. I heard that someone likes it kinky."

Kendall blushed. "I dunno what you’re talking about..." he mumbled.

James laughed. "You keep forgetting that I have a network of informants that deliver all school gossip directly to me. Luckily, I decided to keep this under wraps for the benefit of your social life. Although, it could've been beneficial, I'm not quite sure. Are most girls into role playing?"

Kendall slugged James, who just laughed harder. "Keep hitting me and I won't help you experiment! Oh, wait, are you into rough sex, too? I could probably whip that out for you!" He laughed harder as Kendall repeatedly slugged his arm.

"Let's just get this over with..." Kendall muttered, leading the way upstairs to James' bedroom. “Your parents aren’t here, are they?”

“When there’s a country club only 15 miles away? Please,” James replied, following him up. “No one will hear you beg me for more.” Kendall rolled his eyes as he opened James’ bedroom door and crossed over toward the bed.

As James shut the door behind them, his mind immediately clicked from 'wise-cracking and flirtatious' to 'comforting and inviting'. "All right," he said softly, approaching Kendall. "We’re gonna start out simple. I'm going to move in close like this (he moved in so that their faces were only inches apart), and when you're ready, lean in and kiss me."

"Okay," Kendall breathed back. He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, his bright green eyes were full of determination. He leaned in more and their lips met. James moved slowly, their lips molding together, ebbing and flowing until James took control and slipped his tongue into Kendall's mouth.

James' tongue met Kendall's only briefly before Kendall's recoiled, but it was soon back, and collided against James' in a tussle for dominance, which he soon lost, although not begrudgingly. Kendall placed his hands on James’ chest, feeling him breathe. James’ put his arms on Kendall’s back, slowly drawing the blonde into him.

After about five minutes, James pulled out, and softly said "So, what do you think?" Kendall took a step back so he could look at James' face and said "I think you're a really good kisser. But, uh, I was wondering something..."

"What?"

"Could I, um blow you? I-I think the only way to really know whether I'm bi or just curious is to actually...interact with a, um, penis..." Kendall said, sounding uncertain.

James eyed him curiously. "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

Kendall nodded. "I figure that there's no time like the present." James sighed. "All right, if you're sure. C'mere."

He took Kendall by the hand and led him to the bed, sat him down, then said "I'll be right back," and disappeared into his bathroom. He came back out a few seconds later with a couple of hand towels. "I hate to make a mess," he explained. "Now, do you want to go first, or should I?"

Kendall looked down at the carpet and said, "Would you, um, mind if you..?"

James just smiled and said "No problem. Just relax." And with that, he knelt down in front of Kendall, undid the front of his pants, and pulled out Kendall's already semi-hard member. He looked up at Kendall with a cocked eyebrow, and Kendall blushed and said "You're a REALLY good kisser..."

James gave a slightly cocky smirk. Then he bent forward and stuck his tongue out, tasting the tip of Kendall's shaft. He then put his entire mouth of the head, teasing the slit in front with the tip of his tongue. Kendall grabbed the sheets and moaned in pleasure. "FUCK, you're really good at that, too..." he gasped. James’ eyes seemed to grin at him, and then slowly started bobbing up and down, teasing Kendall with his hot mouth.

"Shit, James!" Kendall moaned in ecstasy. By this point, he was fully hard, his generous package throbbing with anticipation for its upcoming unloading. And it was at this precise moment that James decided to show off his talent for deep-throating, taking Kendall's member in his mouth all at once.

It was all too much for Kendall to handle. It drove him over the edge, releasing several loads of his salty sweet sperm, soon swallowed by James' awaiting gullet.

"How the hell did you do that? I’ve never come that fast!" Kendall gasped, once he had recovered. James allowed himself a small smirk. "Girls are far too delicate and cautious to suck a dick. If you want your dick sucked properly, go to a guy. We're not afraid of your junk, so we go all out. Plus, we know what we like, so we know what other guys like too."

Kendall nodded, then gave a smirk himself. "All right, then," he said seductively, "it's my turn." He pulled James up, turned him around, and pushed him onto the bed.

"Whoa," James said, "I like a boy who'll take control."

Kendall gave him a crooked smile. “I figure that if I act confidently, then the bravery will follow.” He then leaned in between James' legs and undid his pants, only to find that James had been going commando. His already hard cock bounced out and smacked Kendall on his long nose.

James stifled a giggle and said "Now that you two are properly acquainted, why don't you get to work?" Kendall glared at him, then looked down at James' enthusiastic package. He took it tentatively in his hands, steeled himself, and put his mouth over it.

James leaned back to enjoy the sensation of his best friend sucking his dick. He had to admit, he had pictured this plenty of times before, but he never actually thought it would happen. He ran his hand through Kendall's hair and said "Just relax. Take your time, and ease yourself into it. There's no rush."

Kendall's head slowly bobbed up and down, his tongue working the delicate rim of James' mushroom-shaped head, always coming back to the pleasure point located where his head met his shaft, right in front. James’ hand guided him up and down, helping him develop a varying rhythm.

Kendall worked James' cock for several minutes before working up the courage to attempt deep throating. He discovered that he could, although not to the capacity that James could. James could feel him actively suppressing his gag reflex until he worked his way all the way down James' thick shaft.

After a couple minutes of this, James could feel himself pulling towards climax. "All right, Ken-doll, time to hop off. I don't think you want me cumming in your mouth." But as he reached forward to stroke Kendall's hair, Kendall slapped his hand away and started quickening his pace on James cock.

"Ngh, Kendall stop. I-I'm so close!" he cried, trying to pull Kendall's mouth off of him with both hands. Kendall, however, grabbed both of James hands in a vice-like grip and slammed them down to the bed. And try as he might, James couldn't lift them. Meanwhile, Kendall had reached a frantic pace pumping up and down on James' throbbing dick.

Suddenly, James came explosively in his mouth, sending load after load down Kendall's eager throat. After James finished, Kendall pulled off of James' slowly deflating member, crawled up next to him, and collapsed on the bed.

James, panting, looked over at him. "Jesus Christ, Kendall, was that really your first time?" Kendall smiled snidely and said "Yup. But a very experienced slut once told me 'we know what we like, so we know what other boys like too.' I just took it and ran with it."

James smacked his arm as he laughed and said "Whatever, you little bitch. This is my favorite part, anyway."

"What, post-coital coitus?"

"No! Post-coital cuddling! Now get your smarmy ass over here and into my arms!" Kendall giggled, but complied, placing his head on James’ chest, while James muscled arms wrapped around him.

A couple minutes later though, James disturbed the silence. "This isn't right. We're wearing too many clothes. Post-coital cuddling is meant to be enjoyed nude. Take off your clothes."

Kendall sat up, frowning. "Whoa there. I know your tricks. I'll give you underwear, but that's it."

James rolled his eyes. "I'm not WEARING underwear, prude."

Kendall rolled his eyes. "Fine, YOU can strip naked, but I'm keeping on my boxer briefs." So, both boys stripped down to their various levels of indecent dress and assumed a comfortable position: all tangled up in each other. James was lying half on his back and half on his left side, while Kendall faced him, worming his face into his the upper part of James’ chest. Their arms wrapped around each other, and their legs interlocked. Kendall’s nose nuzzled against James’ collarbone, and he lightly kissed whatever part of the brunette’s body was directly in front of his lips.

James laughed softly. “What on earth was that?” he asked curiously.

Kendall sighed, humming as he did. "I dunno, it just felt right.” He paused to soak in the moment. “This is nice,” he finally said. “When I’m with a girl, all they want to do is for me to cuddle them, so it’s nice to be on the other end of that.”

James ran his hands through Kendall’s now slightly unkempt hair. “I like a boy who’s a softie,” he said with a grin. Kendall gave him a small smack as he laughed again. “But seriously,” James said, once he calmed down. “Why did you want to experiment? And why with me?”

Kendall shrugged. “I dunno, when I kissed Logan at that party, it was like…something awoke in me. I just wanted to see where it led. As for why with you, well, who better to do it with than with the best?” he replied.

James grinned. “I’m quoting you on that.” He gently kissed Kendall’s forehead, almost unconsciously.

Kendall groaned. “Please don’t. I’d really rather not let this out yet.” They lay there in silence for a short while, snuggling and stroking each other, until Kendall broke the silence. “So, are you bisexual, or what?”

James sighed. “For me, sexuality is much more fluid. I guess you could say I’m pansexual.” Kendall nodded, his nose brushing up against James’ chest. “So, what about you?” James asked.

Kendall took a beat before he answered. “I’m not entirely sure,” he said. “I could definitely see myself with a guy. I mean, I’ve thought about it before, just never in a sexual way.”

James took a second to follow up. “Do you see yourself…with Logan? ‘Cause I gotta say, even though you two havfe a history, that seems way unfair to Carlos.”

Kendall nodded afain. “I know, he replied. I’m not expecting anything to happen between us. I just…want to explore my future options.” They lay there silently again, just taking each other in, until Kendall again broke the silence. “You know, ever since you said ‘marine biology’…”

James licked his lips and grinned. “You wanna go skinny dipping and make out?” he asked seductively.

Kendall bit his lip. “And if it’s all right with you, maybe we could give each other handjobs..?”

James drew him into another kiss, this one much more sexual. “Ready when you are.”

* * *

So, I decided to make Kendall a major player. Bear with me as I work out the kinks (double entendre!).


	18. Chapter 18

Tuesday, November 7th

Officer Garcia watched as Carlos pack up his school materials. Logan had just left, and Carlos was still beaming from a compliment he gave him. Time for some awkward parenting, he decided. “So, why aren’t you and Logan dating?” he asked casually, pulling out a frozen pizza to stick in the oven.

Carlos spluttered, grasping at a response, finally coming up with “Dad!”

“What?” his dad asked innocently. “You haven’t had a serious relationship since that last guy, what was it, Beau? And he was a moron. Logan is nice, and you obviously like him.” He took some pleasure at how shocked Carlos was. Carlos, whether it was unconscious or not, tried to act more masculine around his dad, because he was always worried that his father was uncomfortable with Carlos’ sexuality. In truth, his father had found some relief. Carlos had a tendency for irresponsibility, and Officer Garcia wasn’t ready for grandchildren yet.

Once Carlos got ahold of his words, he started talking, albeit slowly. “Um, I tried. He said something about wanting too, but not being able. But he’s been opening up more lately, and I think he’s ready to try dating, but I don’t know if it’s with me.” Carlos exhaled slowly, as if he’d been holding this all in. Actually, he probably had been.

His father slid the frozen pizza into the oven, and closed it. “Well then you need to make yourself available. Get back in there. That’s what I had to do with your mother. She turned me down three times before we got together. And we broke up twice. Your mother was a bit flighty,” he said, with a gleam in his eye.

“Really? Carlos asked softly, smiling a little half smile. He loved hearing about his mother.

“Oh yeah,” Officer Garcia said wistfully. “That’s why she was such a good investor. She was a master at short sales. She hated having to wait to reap profits from something. I think that’s why you’re so rambunctious,” he said, giving Carlos a look. Carlos blushed slightly.

“So, I just have to let Logan know…that I’m still available?” he asked slowly.

His father bore a broad grin. “That’s what worked for me. That, and do something gallant. That’s the clincher.”

* * *

Logan sighed happily as he opened the door to his house. He was starting to enjoy coming home from tutoring Carlos to the smell of dinner cooking. Even if the oven didn’t work, the stove was apparently in fine condition. Most of the recipes seemed to be common to those of a diner (like the one that his father worked at), but Logan didn’t mind. The burgers that were currently sizzling in his father’s pan smelled delicious, and his stomach gurgled happily.

His father looked over his shoulder and smiled happily at him. “I was going to ask if you were hungry, but I can hear from over here that you are,” he said cheerfully. “My manager let me know that he is more than happy to let me take some ingredients home to ‘practice’ some of the menu items. Apparently, ratings on something called ‘Yelp’ have jumped up ever since they hired me, and business has increased steadily since, so tonight, we dine like kings. I sliced up some fresh tomatoes and lettuce, and brought home some fries that have been heating in the oven.”

Logan threw his backpack in his room and leaned up against the bar that separated the living room and the mini-kitchen. “Sounds good,” he said with a smile. He pursed his lips for a moment, then threw caution to the wind. Well, sort of. “Dad, can I ask you a relationship question?”

His father flinched a little bit, and then cautiously asked “Is this about you and…someone else?” He trailed off, knowing that this was still a sensitive subject.

Logan froze, then got on the defensive, while still trying to act natural. “Me? No! No no no. Uh, this is about my friend, uh, James. He kind of dates around, and he’s considering dating to girls at the same time.” He actually impressed himself with how convincing this story was. For people that new James, this was actually plausible. Actually, if Logan’s memory was correct, it had happened before. Twice.

His father visibly relaxed at Logan’s story. Logan had a sneaking suspicion that he took it with a grain of salt, but at least he took it. “Oh, he wants to juggle two girls, huh? I tried that once.”

“Really? What happened?” Logan asked curiously, perking up.

His father paused his cooking as he recounted. “It didn’t end well. They were best friends when we all met, and I took a liking to both of them. They were different and I didn’t really have a ‘type’ then, so I was curious to see what the both of them were like.”

“Did they know you were dating both of them at the same time?” Logan interjected. This was drawing a strange parallel to his own situation.

His father went back to his burgers, finally taking them out of their pan. He slid them both onto their buns and started putting the burgers together. “Oh, yeah,” he continued. “I was upfront about it, and both said that they were okay with it. But there were jealousy problems from the get-go. They were in constant competition with each other, and all of our relationships suffered because of it. Eventually, I broke up with both of them, they didn’t speak to each other anymore. It was just awful.” He pulled the fires out of the oven, and dumped them onto their plates. He turned around with both plates smelling delicious. “Order up!” he said cheerfully.

Logan smiled, taking his plate. His father went around and took a seat next to Logan. “Did that help at all?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Logan said honestly, “that was great. Thanks. And the food smells great, too.”

His dad smiled at the compliment. “Tastes even better, I promise. Oh, would you mind hanging around after school tomorrow until about five? I have a surprise for you.” Logan nodded, as his mouth was full of burger. His father was right, it was delicious.

* * *

Wednesday, November 8th

Logan sighed as he wandered around the front entrance of the school aimlessly, waiting for his dad to come meet him for the "important surprise he had mentioned yesterday. 'Well, I suppose it's about 5, maybe I should head outside,' he thought. 'Maybe he's walking me to his new work.'

His thoughts were interrupted by a voice dripping with hatred. "Hey faggot, where do you think you're going?"

Logan whipped around, and found himself suddenly face to face with a couple of meaty-looking jocks. One of them slammed him against the wall, pinning him there with one hand.

He got up to Logan's face and announced "We don't really like fags like you in this school, you know?" Logan could smell the beer on his breath. It was a stench he was intimately familiar with. "We would have gone after that little brown faggot you hang out with, but the entire hockey team would be after us, and we can't have that now, can we? So we'll just have to beat it into you."

The other one jumped in at this point. "That way people will just think that your bum dad did it. I can't believe you thought you were fooling people with that make-up."

The both of them guffawed stupidly at the slurred insults. But Logan could barely hear them. It registered in his brain that they were threatening him, but he was too afraid to hear exactly what they were saying. He started to tear up.

"Aw, look, the stupid queer is gonna cry. Well, we should give him a reason to, shouldn't we?"

Logan had the wind knocked out of him as a fist went straight into his stomach. Another connected with the right side of his jaw seconds later. As he tried to regain his breath, his lean frame was flung all the way across the hall against the far wall.

He started to slump over, but a rough hand grabbed him by the hair. Logan saw a knee rapidly approaching his face. He turned his head in time to avoid a broken nose, but it still hit him solidly on his cheekbone. He fell over backwards, and both boys swooped down upon him mercilessly.

He was down there for an indeterminable amount of time when heard shouting and heavy footsteps and both boys were pulled off of him. He opened his eyes to see them be thrown like rag dolls down the hall. They got up and sprinted down the hallway as fast as their intoxicated legs could carry them, and angry shouting echoed up and down the halls.

He looked up and saw his dad looking after them, a burning anger in his eyes. He looked down at his son, and his rage evaporated, leaving only fear.

Logan was a bloody mess. He didn't think anything had been broken, but he knew that he was going to be bruised all over. His nose was bleeding, and he could feel his left eye swelling. Even breathing hurt.

His father cradled him delicately in his arms, and started to tear up. "Oh Logan I'm so sorry. I promised myself that no one would touch you like that again. I failed. I'm a failure."

Logan looked at his dad and said "No, you're not, Dad. You saved me."

* * *

Logan smiled when Officer Garcia walked into his hospital room. Officer Garcia picked up his chart and shook his head. "The fact that you're still smiling after an ordeal like that is truly a testament to your character."

Logan shrugged, and winced at the movement. "I'm just glad nothing's broken."

"You and me both," Mr. Garcia muttered. His brow furrowed as he deciphered Logan's medical chart. "It looks like you don't even have any fractures...a couple of bruised bones is as bad as it gets." He hung the chart back on the edge of Logan's bed and sat in the chair next to him, flipping open a notebook that he had retrieved from his pocket.

"All right, Logan," he said amicably, "in your own words, describe the events that took place this afternoon."

Logan sighed. "Uh, okay. Well, yesterday, my dad told me to wait for him after school around 5, because he had a surprise for me. So, I was by the front entrance when's couple of guys came by and started picking on me, calling me, um," he faltered, not wanting to say the word out loud.

Officer Garcia, who had been scribbling in his notebook, looked up. "You can go ahead and tell me, Logan. It's a safe space."

"Um," Logan said again, "they were calling me, um...faggot." He said the last word delicately. "Then they just started beating on me for I don't know how long, until my dad came and they ran off. I, um, don't really remember how we got here," he said, ending kind of sheepishly.

He waited for Officer Garcia to finish writing. When he did finish, the man looked up at Logan. "Well, that corroborates your father's story. Oh, he drove you here, by the way. He told us that his surprise was that he got a car. He also mentioned that the boys were reeked of alcohol, and that they were wearing some sort of sports jerseys. Does any of that sound familiar to you?"

Logan nodded slightly, not wanting to cause himself more pain. "Yeah, sorry. It was definitely beer. And they were wearing lacrosse jerseys. I don't really remember any specifics though."

Carlos' father nodded absently. "I figured as much." He looked up at Logan. "You should have seen Carlos when I told him where you were. He was livid. I can tell he's going to demand all the details when I get home. Actually, would you mind if I tell him? He might be able to help identify the boys."

Logan nodded again. "Sure. Just, tell him not to worry?"

Officer Garcia smiled. "Sure thing. The doctors said they'd like to keep you here overnight, but you should be able to return to school in the morning. Does that sound all right?"

"Yeah, actually. I'd prefer that," Logan replied. "I just want to get back to normal as soon as possible."

Officer Garcia sighed as he walked toward the door. "I'm sure you do," he said quietly.

* * *

Wednesday, November 9th

Logan didn't know if it was possible to limp with both legs, but if it was, that was what he was doing right now. The mirror in his hospital bathroom had told him that he was more black and blue than his normal pale complexion. In fact, in some places he was purple, and even a violent shade of green. His left arm was in a sling, and his mid-section was bandaged up so much that it could have passed for a mummy's. He even had a couple of wrappings and some gauze around his right temple. It wasn't a pretty picture. He was a little relieved when he saw Camille approach him carefully. "Hey, you don't look so good. You okay?"

Logan gave her a severe look. She even looked a little ashamed of herself. "You're right, that was the stupidest thing I've ever said. I don't even know why I said it. So, do you need anything.

Logan sighed. "Yeah, I'm all right. I'm assuming you already know what happened?"

Camille nodded fervently. "Yeah, but I'm wondering if YOU do," she said cryptically.

"Camille, it...happened...to me...right? Did I hit my head?"

"No, you dummy, that was yesterday! I'm talking about this morning!" She exclaimed, losing all sympathy.

"What happened this morning?" he asked curiously.

Camille looked up at the ceiling as she recounted. "Well, apparently, someone gave two guys from the lacrosse team a pretty good smackdown, because they look worse than you do. Oh, crap, I gotta go," she said suddenly. And with that, she hurried away. Carlos however, was right there to take her place.

"Hi, Logan," he said, giving him a warm smile. "Wanna get to class?"

"Okay," Logan said slowly. However, he couldn't help but notice how Carlos' knuckles were starting to bruise. Logan stopped the slightly shorter boy suddenly.

"Carlos, wait. I have something to say," he announced. He pulled Carlos into a nearby bathroom, which was thankfully empty. Carlos' expression a mix of anticipation and trepidation.

Logan took a deep breath, then started talking. "I thought that I wanted to explore my options, and get a feel for what I wanted, but...I was wrong. I don't want everything I do to be ruled by logic. I-"

His voice faltered, but he swallowed and pushed ahead. "I want you," he said softly.

Carlos bit his lip, his big chocolate-colored eyes staring into Logan's. "Really?" he asked quietly. "What about Kendall?"

Logan shook his head. "Kendall's nice and all, but he's not you. You were the one who noticed me when no one else did. You were the one to care about me, and make me feel important. And you were the one to beat the crap out of the guys who beat the crap out of me."

Carlos blushed, caressing his bruised knuckles gingerly. "That obvious, huh?" he asked embarrassedly.

"Yeah, kinda," Logan replied, placing his unbound hand on Carlos'. "I realized that I don't want to be with someone just because they like me, I want to be with them because they care for me, even after I reject them. I want to be with you." And with that, he closed his eyes and kissed Carlos.

It was just as sweet as he had always imagined it to be, if not sweeter. Carlos took his hands and carefully drew Logan in closer, one hand on Logan's hip, the other on the base of his skull. Logan wrapped his good arm around Carlos' neck, feeling his muscular shoulder.

Their kiss was sweet and passionate, a gentle ebbing and flowing of lips. Carlos quickly established dominance, Logan happy to relinquish control. After a couple of minutes, they broke of slowly. Their foreheads met softly, and Logan nudged Carlos' nose with his own. "We should get you to the nurse," he said quietly. "She has a cream that works really well on minor bruises.

Carlos drew back and have him a cheeky grin. "Does she have anything for your bruises?" He cackled delightedly as Logan smacked his arm.


	19. Chapter 19

Friday, November 10th

Carlos smiled shyly at Logan as he sat down at their lunch table. Logan blushed slightly and returned it with a shy smile of his own. The reaction at the table was very mixed. Camille sighed happily and Kendall gave an approving grin. Meanwhile, James rolled his eyes and Stephanie made retching noises. Jo just looked on with her usual serene look. Carlos and Logan ignored all that though, a little bit too giddy to pay attention. That was, until Camille dropped a relationship bomb on the couple. “So, when is your guys’ first date?” she asked excitedly.

Carlos and Logan looked at each other in confusion. “We, uh-we haven’t really talked about it,” Logan admitted. “I mean, we’ve only been together for a day...”

“I think you should do it this weekend,” Kendall said in a matter-of-fact tone. “You two deserve a little alone time that doesn’t involve the completion of Carlos’ homework.”

Carlos looked at Logan with a mixture of anticipation and nervousness. “Um, I’m free on Saturday evening. What about you?”

Logan mulled it over for a bit before responding. “Um, I could do Saturday,” he said apprehensively. He could easily come up with some excuse to tell his father, but that wasn’t what was scary about this. This was...a first date. His first date. Ever. “I don’t have a ton to wear though...”

Camille dismissed his worries. “Don’t worry about that. You’re about my older brother’s size, so you can come over to my house and we’ll find something for you to wear. Actually, Carlos, do you have a place in mind? I want to know how to dress him.”

Carlos blushed a little bit before responding. “Well, I want it to be a surprise, so...” he leaned over the table and started whispering in Camille’s ear. Logan tried to gauge what was going to happen tomorrow evening based on Camille’s reaction.

At first she furrowed her brow, as if trying to picture something in her mind. It was probably what Carlos would be wearing. Next she rolled her eyes, probably while Carlos described the restaurant. Then, Carlos started saying something else while Camille just sighed. As he pulled away, she commented “You really enjoy cliches, don’t you?”

Carlos gave a slight smile. “They’re cliches for a reason, you know?”

Logan grabbed his hand. “Besides, even a cliche is new to me.” Carlos’ only response was to nervously kiss him on the cheek. They were both a little unsure how affectionate to be with one another. “So, do you know how to dress me?” Logan asked Camille.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve got a couple things in mind,” she said exasperatedly. "Do you just want to show up at my house at 3:30? Carlos can pick you up at 5."

"Sure, that sounds good," Logan said. "Would that be all right Carlos?"

"Sounds good," Carlos replied as the bell rang. "I'll see you tomorrow." He gave Logan another quick peck and walked off.

* * *

Saturday, November 11th

Carlos exhaled nervously as he pulled up to Camille's large house at 5:00 exactly. Logan had texted him about half an hour earlier with a request to please save him from the 'hairdresser from hell'. As he walked up to the doorstep, he hoped that Camille hadn't changed him too much. He liked Logan just the way he was.

He was just about to ring the doorbell when Camille swung it open, wearing a pretty black cocktail dress with some dangly earrings. Past the doorway, he could see the polished hardwood floors and the huge staircase in the middle of what his dad would call a foyer, leading up to the bedrooms. It looked like it had all been cleaned very recently.

"Ah, Carlos. We've been expecting you," she said, making a grandiose, but ultimately pointless arm gesture. Camille's portion of the evening was apparently going to be heavy on dramatics.

Carlos stared at her confusedly. "Camille," he asked, "did you get all dressed up just to answer the door?"

She dismissed his question with a quick wave of her hand. "Never mind that, Logan's about to make his grand entrance." She cleared her throat and called out with a clear, musical voice "LOOOOGAAAAAAN, he's HEEEEEEREEEEE!"

* * *

Logan finished buckling his belt just as he heard Camille shouting from all the way downstairs. "I'm coming," he called back. He nervously smoothed out non-existent wrinkles, wanting to look perfect for his first date.

He was wearing a sage green shirt (compliments of Camille's older brother) that Camille said really brought out his brown eyes. This was under a deep blue pull-over sweater. He also had on his own dark blue jeans, one of the several pairs that Camille had him bring over, and a pair of Camille’s brother’s brown dress shoes. They had arrived at this combination of clothes after about 45 minutes of trying on various outfits.

He came down the stairs to find Carlos waiting there. He looked incredible. Red was apparently his signature color, and Logan had to say that it definitely agreed with him. He was wearing a red shirt with some sort of fabric that made the shirt shimmer a little bit, and a pair of black jeans. They both took each other in, admiring each other up and down several times.

Finally, Carlos took Logan's hand and kissed his cheek. He stepped back and said "You look wonderful."

Logan blushed. "You look amazing. Red really suits you." Carlos gave a little smile and looked down at his shoes, slightly embarrassed. "Um, thanks. James says that it, uh, accentuates my skin and curves, so I try and wear it when I'm on dates." Logan made a mental note to thank James later. It seemed like there was nothing he didn't know how to do. "We should get going. We don't want to be late for our reservation."

Camille apparently agreed. She quickly shoved Logan out the door and slammed it shut. He could hear her heels scuttle away. Carlos turned to Logan, who had almost fallen but ended up in his arms instead. They stood there, staring at each other, until Camille shouted through a nearby window "EITHER MAKE OUT OR GET GOING, I HAVEN'T GOT ALL DAY!"

"So, where are we going?" Logan asked.

Carlos shook his head. "Not telling," he said teasingly. "You'll know when we get there."

Logan rolled his eyes. "Really? Can't you just tell me?"

Carlos shook his had again, a wide grin on his face. "Nope, not gonna happen. I like the look of surprise on your face too much." Logan grunted as he got in the car (Carlos had opened the door for him, like a gentleman).

The drive to the restaurant was peaceful. The boys chatted about simple things like classes and future plans and dreams (Logan left out those of the erotic variety).

After a little while, Carlos turned into a parking lot and Logan rolled his eyes. "Venezia? Really?", he asked in a judgmental tone.

Carlos looked at him, a wide-eyed innocent look on his face. "What's wrong? James told me it was really romantic!"

Logan groaned, planting his face into his hand. "Yeah, and James told ME it's where he takes girls so that he can seal the deal."

Carlos look flustered and started stuttering. "I-I-I just want-wanted to-"

Logan stopped him by squeezing his hand. "I know. You were trying to make a special night. But James and I are going to have a talk tomorrow."

Carlos looked relieved. "Sorry, Logan. I didn't know. Do you wanna go somewhere else?"

Logan shook his head. "We're already here. Besides, if it's James recommended, we might as well try it out, right? He is well-versed in local culture."

Carlos beamed. "Okay! Hold on, I'll let you out!"

He got out and ran around the car. Logan shook his head at how hard Carlos was trying. He opened the door and held out his hand. Logan smiled slightly and accepted it, and Carlos helped him out of the car. They walked up to the restaurant and, once again Carlos held the door open.

The interior of the restaurant was dimly lit in a romantic way, and the theme of Venice was very clear. On the walls were paintings of skylines and canals, as well as black and white pictures of gondoliers and views from the waterways. The carpet was a deep blue and and the walls were an even deeper purple. Logan could see why James used this place. It had a quaint, "hole-in-the-wall" feeling to it, and it was incredibly romantic. Logan already felt like slipping into a booth, curling up against Carlos, and cuddling for hours.

"Hallo, welcome to Venezia!" said a jovial Italian man with a thick accent. He was standing behind a counter laden with both menus and Italian travel brochures. "Are we having a reservation?" he asked inquisitively, a huge grin on his face.

Carlos approached him tentatively and said "Uh, yes. Two, the name is Garcia?"

The man quickly scanned down his list and said brightly "Ah, yes, here! Right this way, sirs!" He led them through the restaurant (it wasn't terribly big), finally sitting them in a cozy corner booth. He placed two menus on the table and asked "Sparkling or plain water?"

Carlos looked at Logan, confused. "Uh, plain water, I guess..." Logan replied. The waiter nodded happily and walked off towards what Logan assumed to be the kitchen.

Carlos, after watching him walk away, looked back at Logan and asked "Do they really serve sparkling water? Is that a thing?"

Logan, looking through the menu, shrugged. "I don't know. Oh, here's a little blurb about the restaurant. Let's see...right here it says that the owners immigrated here from Venice 10 years ago. Maybe they do that Italy. How interesting."

Just then, their water reappeared with two bottles of water and a basket of bread with olive oil and some sort of vinaigrette. "I'll be back!" he said in his bubbly way.

Logan turned to Carlos, who was studying the menu. "What are you thinking for dinner?" he asked gently.

Carlos showed his menu to Logan. "We could try this: It's a 5 course meal that they have in Italy." Logan looked at where Carlos was pointing. It was a 5 course meal, consisting of an appetizer, two entrees, another appetizer, then dessert. There were plenty of options for each course. The first appetizer included small things like specially toasted bread, salami, and cold cuts. They settled on bruschetta for this course. The second course was mostly pasta and other carbohydrate-based dishes. They settled on a dish with shrimp and spaghetti in tomato sauce. The second course was more like a main dish. It featured mostly fish, poultry, and other kinds of meat. After a great deal of discussion, Logan coaxed Carlos into trying the rabbit. The second appetizer seemed out of place. It was all greens, consisting of various salads and vegetable dishes. They decided that a simple house salad would suffice here. Then, for dessert, it only seemed appropriate to get gelato.

As if he had been eavesdropping, the waiter peered in on them again. "Are we ready to order?" he asked in his charming accent.

"Yes, I think so," Logan answered. "We are going to share the 'Taste Of Italy' special." The waiter clapped his hands. "Wonderful!" he said happily. "I will show you how Italians eat, then, yes? My wife makes the food the Italian way!" Carlos nodded happily while a realization smacked Logan upside the head. This guy probably OWNED the restaurant, and his wife probably made all the food.

Carlos started ordering. "Um, we're going to start off with the bruschetta-"

He was cut off by the man clenching his eyes shut. "No no no," he said, opening his eyes again, "It's said like 'bruSKEtta'. Hard 'k'".

Carlos nodded seriously. "Okay," he said, "we'll have the bruSKEtta first." He took care to pronounce it the correct, Italian way this time. "And then we'll have, uh, this.." he said, pointing to the "pasta con gamberi e salsa di pomodoro" on the menu. And thus started a small and thoroughly entertaining Italian lesson, which the man, who finally gave his name as Giuseppe, was more than happy to give.

As Giuseppe walked away with their very full order, Carlos smiled at Logan. "When you give James that talking to," he said, "don't make it too hard. This was a great idea."

Logan nodded in agreement. "I will admit that he really knows how to romance someone."

* * *

They walked out of the restaurant full, but very satisfied. "I still can't believe how good that rabbit was," Carlos moaned.

Logan smiled. "I meant to ask you about that. Did you have a rabbit as a child or something?" Carlos shook his head.

"No, it's just...it's a bunny, you know? They're all cute and cuddly." He shuddered slightly as he thought about what he was currently digesting.

"I've noticed that you don't feel the same way about chickens though."

Carlos donned an oddly defiant look. "That's because I'm doing a public service by eating chickens." He noticed Logan's inquisitive face and explained further.

"When I was in first grade, we went to a farm for a field trip, right? Well, at one point we were feeding chickens by scattering bird feed. Someone accidentally got some on my shoe, and the chickens went NUTS chasing me around the pen trying to peck at my feet. So, now, I take great pleasure in eating chickens. It's like my own personal revenge."

Logan grinned as Carlos held open the door for him again. Carlos jogged around the front of the car to his own door. As he opened it and got in, Logan remarked "You've got a bizarre sense of justice."

This started a debate that spanned all the way to their next destination, which was apparently the park. It was a good thing too. The debate had reached a stalemate at whether or not he would theoretically eat dogs if one chased him. It stopped as Carlos pulled up to the curb. Logan looked out his window. "The park? Why are we here?" he asked curiously.

Carlos waited until he had run around the car and opened Logan's door to answer. "They're doing a concert in the park thing, so I thought it would be fun to listen to that. They're playing famous movie scores, so I thought it would be neat to listen to." He walked around the car and opened up his trunk. He pulled out a blanket, a bottle of sparkling cider, and a couple of plastic champagne flutes. "I figured that if we're going to do this, we'd do it right."

Logan grinned as he took the blanket from him. "You're such a romantic," he said. Carlos smiled slightly as he shrugged. They walked off toward the bandshell in the distance. Logan debated with himself before asking a question that had been preying on his mind for a while. "So...have any other guys been on the receiving end of this kind of romance?" he asked tentatively.

"Am I hearing a twinge of jealousy?" Carlos teased. Logan knocked Carlos with his elbow.

"No," he protested. "Not jealousy. Just...curiosity. I want to know where I stack up among your former lovers."

Carlos pondered for a second before answering. "Well, before I answer, just bear in mind that you're the first guy that I've thought about in a...serious sense. I've dated a few guys before you, but it was more because I just wanted to be with someone more than because I saw a future with them."

"So, you see a future with me?" Logan asked.

Carlos blushed slightly. "Well, I know it's early, but...yeah, I do."

Logan laid down the blanket in a relatively unpopulated area in front of the orchestra, which was beginning to arrive and fiddle with their instruments. " Is that weird?" Carlos asked, sounding a bit worried.

"I don't think so," Logan replied. "I could see a future with you, too. I mean, for me, that's the real purpose in dating, is to find someone you're compatible with and spend the rest of your life with them."

They sat in silence, watching various members of the orchestra file in and take their seats. "Would you mind telling me about the other guys?" Logan asked softly.

"Um, sure, I don't mind," Carlos replied, although he sounded uncertain. "There's really only been three guys I've gone out with. The first was in eighth grade, with a guy named Lorenzo. Remember him? Spiky brown hair, hazel eyes, started to get muscular? Well, neither of us were out at the time, we just caught each other checking each other out in a locker room one time. The extent of our dating was going to little pre-teen parties together, hanging out with each other, and an occasional sloppy make-out session in a bathroom stall. It lasted about a month and a half before we realized that we had no idea what we were doing. We didn't break up so much as we just stopped seeing each other. It wasn't, like, a real relationship, but it was just nice to have something, you know?" Carlos looked at Logan, trying to figure out if he had shared too much.

Logan flashed a little half-smile that just made Carlos feel tingly. "I get it. That's sort of how I felt when I started sitting with the girls at lunch. I'd always been a bit of loner before, so it really was nice to have some form of constant human interaction for once. And it was nice to have someone care for me too. I don't get a lot of that."

They sat there in silence each wondering how much information was too much. It was Logan that forged ahead. "Okay, your turn. Boyfriend number two. Shoot."

Carlos exhaled deeply as he recalled the relationship. "All right," he began, "boyfriend number two was a tall soccer player named Kyle summer of freshman year. He and I went to an adventure camp together, and that was really just messing around. I guess we were more hook-up buddies than boyfriends, but it was still a semi-serious relationship. We went to camp together for three weeks, and we, uh..." he trailed off, still trying to gauge how much was too much. After an encouraging nod from Logan, he finished his sentence.

"Well, two weeks in, we gave each other blowjobs in the woods, and that was the first real sexual experience I had. After camp ended, we started going to each other's houses to hook up since he didn't live that far. About a month and half in, we went...all the way. I was virgin, he wasn't. He thought it would be more comfortable for me if I topped. We did it a couple of times after that. We were together for about two months before school started again and we lost touch."

Logan nodded solemnly. He squeezed Carlos' knee gently. "If you want to stop sharing, you can. I know that it's kind of one-sided."

Carlos shook his head. "No, it's fine. Really. Actually, it's kind of nice to talk about this with another guy who can understand. James has always been with other people, and he's not really looking to settle down, so he wouldn't get a lot of the emotional stuff. And Kendall tries, but he doesn't understand how much of a struggle being gay can be. I mean, most girls he sees are technically available partners just because they're straight. When you factor out things like personality and goals and stuff, there's still a lot of girls he could go out with. There's a lot of struggle in finding someone that's not just compatible, but even just gay."

Logan nodded. "I know exactly what you mean. I mean, that's why I was initially guarded around you. I kept figuring 'What are the chances he's into guys? And if he is, what are the odds that he'd like me?' It can be really disheartening. I've had crushes on other guys beside you, I just never acted on them."

Carlos looked at him curiously. "Who was the last guy you had a crush on beside me?"

Logan blushed. "All right, don't make a big deal out of it, but...Kendall." Carlos burst into laughter and Logan smacked his arm. "Oh, come on! It was after Camille's party! He had his shirt off, and he gave me my first kiss! How could I have NOT had feelings for him?"

Carlos panted as he recovered from his bout of hysterics. "All right, all right, that's fair. And if I'm being honest, he's not totally bad looking. He's actually got a pretty great body."

"Thank you," Logan replied, somewhat vindicated. "Now, you've got one last piece of baggage to unload. Are you ready for boyfriend number three?"

Carlos nodded. "Yeah, and get ready for this one, because he's a doozy. Remember Max, the quarterback who graduated last year? Well, he and I went out for a while. I was a junior, he was senior. I was out, he was still closeted. It sounds like a bad love story, I know. Anyway, he asked me out after football season ended. He was kinda hunky, and he seemed nice, so I said yes. And I jumped through hoops to go out with him. Secret meet-ups, we had to pretend not to know each other in the halls, but it seemed worth it. He took me out to nice places, he bought me little things, and he was the only guy I've ever bottomed with. It seemed like a great match."

There was a lull as Carlos seemed to steel himself. "And then I walked in on him cheating on me with the kicker for the team. And he had the balls to ask if I wanted to join in! That hurt. It really...hurt. James thought I should've outed him, and even Kendall thought I shouldn't have let it slide, but I'm just not a vengeful type. So I just cut ties and moved on. I mean it took a while, but I moved on. We were about to hit our six month anniversary when it happened."

Logan did the math in his head. "So, that was like...six months ago?"

"Yeah, that's about right," Carlos replied. "It still kind of hurts, but I know I'm better off without him. I just keep wondering why he did it."

Logan popped open the bottle of sparkling cider and poured a couple of glasses. As he handed one to Carlos, he said "Because he's an monumental jerk that doesn't deserve you."

Carlos grinned as he accepted the glass. "I'll drink to that" he said, clinking the plastic flutes together.

* * *

Carlos pulled up in front of Logan's house. Logan smiled shyly as he looked at Carlos. "I, uh, I honestly had a really great time tonight," he said quietly.

Carlos squeezed his hand. "Me too," he replied. He placed his other hand on the back of Logan's head and guided their lips together. They met, and kissed both delicately and passionately. Carlos' tongue brushed in between Logan's lips before flicking it gently. Logan responded in kind, albeit timidly. They pulled apart regretfully.

"I'll see you Monday," Carlos said softly. Logan hummed in response, and his lips were still buzzing as they pulled in for one last kiss. They pulled apart again, and this time, Logan opened the door and got out of the car. Carlos watched him enter the house before pulling away. Logan shared some small talk with his father about the excuse he had used to see Carlos (a simple movie trip had worked), and retreated to his room. He pulled off his loaned shoes before collapsing on the bed. This was what he had wanted for so long. Someone to really care about him, in a deep, personal way, someone that he could share with. Someone that was real.


End file.
